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:^ 




in^_y 



THE 



COURSE OF TIME. 



4 



i 



THE 



COURSE OF TIME, 



a l^oem. 



IN TEN BOOKS. 

ft • • • ^ 



BY ROBERT POLLOK, A. M. 



TIM AaMricu, fron ttw fliM Sdnrimi^ Xditko. 



PUBLISHED BY 

CROCKER AND BREWSTER, BOSTON: — JONATHAN LEAYITT| 

NEW YORK :— JOHN ORIG6, PHILADELPHIA : — 

CASHING AND JEWETT, BALTIMORE. 



Stereotyped at the Boaton Type and Steraotype Foandry. 

1828. 



P777 



* 



* ^ • • • - 

• • » • - 

'4 * * * • 



i^ 



THR 



.^ 



COURSE OF TIME- 



BOOK I. 



Eterval Sfirit ! God of truth ! to whom 
All things seem as they $ure ; Thou, who of old 
The prophet's eye unsealed, that nightly saw. 
While heavy sleep fell down on other men, 
In holy vision tranced, the future pass 
Before him, and to Judah's harp attuned 
Burdens which made the pagan mountains shakcy 
And Zion's cedars bow, — ^inspire my song ; 
My eye unscale ; me what is substance teach. 
And shadow what, while I of things to come, 
A3 past, rehearsing, sing the Course of Time, 
The second birth, and final doom of man. 

The muse, that soft and sickly wooes the ear 
Of love, or chanting loud in windy rhyme 
Of fabled hero, raves through gaudy tale 
Not overfiraught with sense, I ask not : such 
A strain befits not argument so high. 
Me thought, and phrase severely sifting out 
The whole idea, grant, uttering as 'tis 
The essential truth — ^time gone, the righteous saved, 
The wicked damned, and providence approved. 

Hold my right hand, Almighty ! and me teach 
To strike the lyre, but seldom struck^ to notes 
1 








2 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Harmonioua with tfa% movning stars, and pure 
As those hf sainted bards and angels sung, 
Wiiich wake the echoes of Eternity ; 
That fools may.hettr and tremble, and the wise. 
Instructed, listen, of ages yet to come. 

Long was the ddff, so long expected, put 
pf the eternal doom, that^ave to each 
Of an the human race his due reward. 
/The sun, earth's sun, and moon, and stars, had ceased 
\To numb^ seasons, days, and months, and years 
ITo mortal ihan. Hope was forgotten, and fear : 
And time, with all its chance, and change, and smiles^ 
And frequent tears, and deeds of villany. 
Or righteousness, once talked of much, as things 
Of great renown, was now but UI rem<^mbered }. 
In dim and shadowy vision of the past 
Seen far remote, as country, which has left 
The traveller's speedy step, retiring back 
From mom till even ; and long Eternity 
Had roUed his mighty years, and with bis years 
Men had grown old. The saints, all home returned 
From pilgrimage, and war, and weeping, long 
Had rested in the bowers of peace, that skirt 
The stream of life; and long — alas, how long 
To them it seemed ! — ^the wicked, who refused 
To be redeemed, had wandered in the dark 
Of hell's despair, and drunk the burning cup 
Their sins had filled with everlasting wo. 

Thus far the years had rolled, ^hich none but God 
Doth number^^when two sons, two youthful sons 
Of Paradise, in conversation sweet, — 
For thus the heavenly muse instructs me, wooed 
, At midnight hour with offering sincere 
Of all the heart, poured out in holy prayer, — 
High on the hills of immortality. 
Whence goodliest prospect looks beyond the walls 



BOOK I. 

Of heaven, walked, casting oft their eye far throof h 

The pure serene, observant if, retomed 

From errand dniy finished, any came, 

Or any, first in virtue now complete)^ 

From other worlds arrived, confirmed in goo^ 

Thus viewing, one they saw, on hasty wing 
Directing towards heaven his course ; and now, 
His flight ascending near the battlements 
And lofty hills on which they walked, approached. 
For round and round, in spacious circuit wide, 
Mountains of tallest stature circumscribe 
The plains of Paradise, whose tops( arrayed 
In uncreated radiance, seem so pure, 
That naught but angel's foot, or saint* s, elect 
Of God, may venture there to walk.) Here oft 
The sons of bliss take mom or evening pastime, 
Delighted to behold ten thousand worlds 
Around their suns revolving in the vast 
External space, or listen the harmonies 
That each to other in its motion sings. 
And hence, in middle heaven remote, is seen 
The mount of God in awful glory bright. 
Withhi, no orb create of moon, or star. 
Or sun, gives light ; for God> own countenance, 
Beaming eternally, gives light to all. 
But farther than these sacred hills, his will 
Forbids its flow, too bright for eyes beyond. 
This is the last ascent of Virtue ; here 
All trial ends, and hope ; here perfect joy, 
With perfect righteousness, which to these heights 
Alone can rise, begins, above all fiill. 

And now, on wing of holy ardour strong. 
Hither ascends Uie stranger, borne upright, — 
For stranger he did seem, with curious eye 
Of nice inspection round surveying all, — 
And at the feet alights of those that stood 



4 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

His coming, who the hand of welcome gare, 
And the embrace sincere of holy love ; 
And thus, with comely greeting kind, began. 

Hail, brother ! hail, thou son of happiness, 
Thou son beloved of God, welctflne to heaven, 
To bliss that never fades ! thy day is past 
Of trial, and of fear to fall. Well done, 
Thou good and faithful servant ; enter now 
Into the joy eternal of thy Lord. 
Come with us, and behold far higher sight 
Than e^er thy heart desired, or hope conceived. 
See, yonder is the glorious hill of God, 
'Bove angel's gaze in brightness rising high. 
Come, join our wing, and we will guide thy flight 
. To mysteries of everlasting bliss, 
, The tree, and fount of life, the eternal throne, 
And presence-chamber of the King of kings. 
But what concern hangs on thy countenance, 
Unwont within this place .' Perhaps thou deemst 
Thyself unworthy to be brought before 
The always Ancient One ? So are we too 
Unworthy ; but our God is all in all. 
And gives us boldness to approach his throne. 

Sons of the Highest ! citizens of heaven ! 
Began the new arrived, right have ye judged : 
Unworthy, most unworthy is your servant, 
To stand in presence of the King, or hold 
Most distant and most humble place in this 
Abode of excellent glory unrevealed. 
But God Almighty be for ever praised, 
Who, of his fulness, fills me with all grace 
And ornament, to make me in his sight 
Well pleasing, and accepted in his court. 
But, if your leisure waits, short narrative 
Will tell, why strange concern thus overhangs 
My face, ill seeming here ; nnd haply, too, 



BOOK I. 

Tour elder knowled^ can instruct my youth , 
Of what seomf dark and doubtful, unexplained. 

Our leisure w^ts thee. Speak ; and what we ban. 
Delighted most to give delight, we will ; 
Though much of mysterji yet to us remains. 

Virtue, I need not tell, when proved, and full 
Matured, inclines us up to God and heaven, 
By law of sweet compulsion strong and sure ; 
As gravitation to the larger orb 
The less attracts, through matter's whole domain. 
Virtue in me was ripe. I speak not this 
In boast ; for what I am to God I owe, 
Entirely owe, and of myself am naught. 
Equipped and bent for heaven, I left yon world, 
My native seat, which scarce your eye can reach, 
Rolling around her central sun, far out. 
On utmost verge of light. But first, to see 
What lay beyond the visible creation, 
Strong curiosity my flight impelled. 
Long was my way, and strange. I passed the botmds 
Which God doth set to light, and life, and love ; 
Where darkness meets with day, where order meets 
Disorder, dreadful, waste, and wild ; and down 
The dark, eternal, uncreated night 
Ventured alone. Long, long on rapid wing, 
I sailed through empty, nameless regions vast. 
Where utter Nothing dwells, unformed and void. 
There neither eye, nor ear, nor any sense 
Of being most acute, finds object; there 
For aught external still you search in vain. 
Try touch,, or, sight, or, smell; try. what you will, - 
You strangely find naught but yourself alone. 
But why should I in words attempt to tell 
What that is like, which is, and yet is not ? 
This passed, my path descending led me still 
O'er unclaimed continents of desert gloom 



TH|^ COURSE OP TIMC. 

Immense, where gravitation shifting turns 
The other way ; and to some dread, unknown. 
Infernal centre downward weighs : and now, — 
Far travelled from the edge of darkness, far 
As from that glorious mount of Crod to light's 
Remotest limb, — dire sights I saw, dire sounds 

1 heard (^and suddenly before my- eye 
(A wall of fiery adamant sprung up,j 

Wall mountainous, tremendous, flaming high 
Above all flight of hope. I paused, and looked ; 
And saw, where'er I looked upon that mound. 
Sad figures traced in fire^ not motionless, 
But imitating life. One I remarked 
Attentively ', but how shall I describe 
What naught resembles else my eye hath seen ? 
Of worm or serpent kind it sooiiething looked, 
But monstr9Us, with a thousand snaky heads, 
Eyed each with double orbs of glaring wrath ; 
And with as many tails, that twisted out 
^ In horrid revolutioti, tipped with stings ; 

And all its mouihs, that wide and darkly gaped, 

And breathed most poisonous breath, had each a sting, 

Forked, and long, and venomous, and sharp s 

And, in its writhings infinite, it grasped 

Malignantly what seemed a hearty swollen, black. 

And quivering with torture most intense ; 

And still the heart, with anguish throbbing high, 

Made eflbrt to escape, but could not ; for, 

Howe'er it turned, and oft it vainly turned, 

These complicated foldings held it Ikat, 

And still the monstrous beast with sting of head 

Or tail transpierced it, bleeding evermore. 

What this could image, much I searched to know ; 

And while I stood, and gazed, and wonl^ered long, 

A voice, from whence I knew not, for no one 

I saw, distinctly whispered in my ear 

These words : This is the Worm that never dies. 

', ' < ? / / • 



BOOK I. 

Fast by the sido of this unsightly thing 
Another was portrayed, more hideous still : 
Who sees it once shall wish to see't no more. 
For ever undescribed lot it remain ! 
Only this much I may or can unfold. 
Far out it thrust a dart that might have made 
The knees of terror quake, and on it hung, 
Within the triple barbs, a being pierced 
Through soul and body both. Of heavenly make 
Original the being seemed, but fallen, 
And worn and wasted with enormous wo. 
And- still around the everlasting lance. 
It writhed, convulsed, and uttered aaimic groans ; 
^And tried and wished, and ever tried and wished 
^o die ; but could not die. ' Oh, horrid sight ! 
I trembling gazed, and listened, and heard this voice 
Approach my ear : This is Eternal Death. 

Nor these alone. Upon that burning wall, 
In horrible emblazonry, were limned 
All shapes, all forms, all modes of wretchedness, 
And agony, and grief, and desperate wo. 
And prominent in characters of fire. 
Where'er the eye could light, these words you read : 
" Who comes this way, behold, and fear to sin !" 
Amazed I stood , and thought such imagery 
Foretokened, within, a dangerous abode. 
But yet to see the worst a wish arose. 
For virtue, by the holy seal of God 
Accredited and stamped, immortal aU, 
And all invulnerable, fears no hurt. 
As easy as my wish, as rapidly, 
I through the horrid rampart passed, unscathed 
And unopposed ; and, poised on steady wing, 
I hovering gazed. Eternal Justice ! sons 
Of God ! tell me, if ye can tell, what then 
I saw, what then I heard. Wide was the pUce, 
And deep as wide, and ruinous as deep. 



8 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Beneath, I saw a lake of burning fire, 
With tempest toet perpetually, and still 
The waves of fiery darkness 'gainst the rocks 
Of dark damnation broke, nnd musie made 
Of tatisBickoky <0ori ; and over head, ^ 
And all around, wind warred with wind, storm howled 
To storm, and lightning forked lightning crossed. 
And thunder answered thunder,, muttering sounds 
pf sullen wrath; and far as sight could pierce, 
Or down descend in caves of hopeless depth, 
Through all that dungeon of unfiiding fire, 
I saw most miserable beings walk, 
Burning continually, yet unconsumed ; 
For ever wasting, yet enduring still , 
-Dying perpetually, yet never dead.^ 
Some wandered lonely in the desert flames. 
And some in fell encounter fiercely met. 
With curses loud, and blasphemies, that made 
The cheek of darkness pale ; and as they fought, 
And cursed, and gnashed their teeth, and wished to die, 
Their hollow eyes did utter streams of wo. ' 
And there were groans that ended not, and sighs 
That always sighed, and tears that ever wept, 
And ever fell^ but not in Mercy's sight. 
And Sorrow, and Repentance, and Despair, 
Among them walked, and to their thirsty lips 
Presented frequent cups of burning gall. 
And as I listened, I heard these beings curse 
Almighty God, and curse the Lamb, and curse 
The earth, the resurrection mom, and seek. 
And ever vainly lieek, for utter death. 
And to their everlasting anguish still, 
The thunders firom above responding spoke 
These words, which, through the caverns of perdition 
Forlornly echoing, fell on every ear : 
** Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not." 
And back again recoiled a deeper groan. 
A deeper groan ! Oh, what a groan was that ! 



*-' 



. ' BOOR I. 

J waited not, but swift on speediest wing, 
( With unaceustomed thoughts conversing,) back 
Retraced my venturous path from dark to light. 
Then up ascending^, long ascending up, - 
I basted on ; though whiles ti&e chiming spheres, 
By God*s own finger- touched to harmony, 
Held me delaying, till I here arrived, 
- Drawn upward by the eternal love of Godf 
Of wonder full and strange astonishment. 
At what in yonder den of dafkness dwells, 
Which now yotir higher knowledge will unibld. 

They answering said. To ask and to bestow 
Knowledge, is much of heaven's delight ; and now 
Most joyfully what thou requirst we would ; 
For much of new atA-udaecdiintable 
Thou bringst. Something indeed we heard before, 
In pftosiAg convefSBEtion slightly touched. 
Of such a place; yet, rather to be taught. 
Than teaching, answer, whkt thy marvel asks, 
We need ; for we ourselves, though here, are but 
Of yesterday, creation's younger sons. 
But there is one, an ancient bard of Earth, 
Who, by the stream of life, sitting in bliss, 
Has oft beheld the eternal years complete 
The mighty circle round the throne of Grod ; 
Great in all learning, in all wisdom great. 
And great in song ; whose harp in lofty strain 
Tells frequently of what thy wonder craves. 
While round him, gathering, stand the youth of heaven, 
With truth and melody delighted both. 
To him this path directs, an easy path, 
And easy flight will bring us to his seat. 

So saying, they linked hand in hand, spread out. 
Their golden wings, by living breezes fanned. 
And over heaven's broad champaign sailed serene. 



h 



10 ' THK COURSi> OF TIME. 

4 

O'er hill and TattD]^) cl6t}ii|4: With verdure green, 
That never f^4ti'l and tree j ^id iierb, and flower, 
That never fades ) and many \ river, rich 
With nectar, windiftg pleftsantlj^^ thtp passed ; 
^\nd maxnioa of celestial nA>uld, and work 
ipivine.S And'ol(^ delicious music, f{UQg 
By saint and angel bands that waltted the vales, 
Or mountain tops, and harped upop their harps, 
Their ear inclined, and held by sweet constraint 
Their wing ; not long, fbr strong desire awaked 
Of knowledge that to holy use might tur^i, . / 
Still pressed them on to leave what rather seemed 
Pleasure, due only when all duty's done.* 

And now beneath them lay the wished-for spot, 
The sacred bower of that renowned'bard ; 
That ancient bard, ancient in days and song \ 
But in immortal vigour young, and young 
In rosy health ; to pensive solitude 
Retiring oft, as was his wont; on earth. 

Fit was the place, most fit, for holy musing. 
Upon a little mount, that gently rose. 
He sat, clothed in white robes ; and o'er his head 
A laurel tree, of lustiest, eldest growth, 
Stately and tall, and shadowing far and wide, — 
Not fruitless, as on earth, but bloomed, and rich 
With frequent clusters, ripe to heavenly taste, — 
Spread its eternal boughs, and in its arms 
A myrtle of un&ding leaf embraced — 
The rose and lily, fresh with fragrant dew, 
And every flowe'r of fairest cheek, around 
Him, smiUag Aofsked. Beneath his feet, fast by, 
And round his sacred hill, a streamlet walked, 
Warbling the holy melodies of heaven ; ' 

The hallowed zephyrs brought him incense sweet ', 
And out before him opened, in prospect long, 



BOQK I. ' * 11 

The river of life, in m&njr n lading ismte 
Descending from^he lofty throne otQddt, 
That with excessive glory closed the scone. 

* • 

Of Adam's race he was,afltt lonely sat, 
liy chance that day, in meditation deep,.^/ ** ' 
Reflecting much of time, t(tkd earth, and nMtn. 

^ And now to pensive, now to cheerful notei^ * ^ 

( He touched a harp of wondrous melody. ^ 
A golden harp it was,. a precious giftf * 
Whidi, at the day of judgment, with the crown 
Of life, he had received from God's own hand, 
Reward due to his service done on earth. 

He sees their coming, and with greeting kind, 
And welcome, not of hollow forged smiles, 
And ceremonious compliment of phrase, 
But of the heart sincere, into his bower 
Invites. Like greeting they returned. Not bent 
In low obeisancy, from creature most 
Unfit to creature ; but with manly form 
Upright they entered in ; though high his rank. 
His wisdom high, and mighty his renown. 
And thus, deferring all apology. 
The two their new companion introduced. 

Ancient in knowledge ! bard of Adam's race ! 
We bring thee one, of us inquiring what 
We need to learn, and with him wish to learn. 
His asking will direct thy answer best. 

Most ancient bard ! began the new arrived. 
Few words will set my wonder forth, and guide 
Thy wisdom's light to what in me is dark. 

Equipped for heaven, I left my native place. 
But first beyond the realms of light I bent 
My course ; and there, in utter darkness, far ' 



12 ' THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Remote, I beings saw forlorn in wo, 
Burning continually, yet unconsumed. 
And there were groans tha^ ended not, and sighs 
^That always sighed, and tears that ever wept 
And ever fell, but not in Mercy's sight. 
And still I heard these wretched beings curse 
Almighty God, and curse thQ Lamb, and curse 
The earth, the resurrection mom, and seek, 
And ever vainly seek, for utter death. 
And from above H^ thunders answered still, 
" Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not." 
And ererj where throughout that horrid den, 
I saw a form of excellence, a form 
Of beauty without spot, that naught could see 
And not admire, admire and not adore. . 
And from its own essential beams it gave 
Light to itself, that made the gloom more dark. 
And every eye in that infernal pit 
Beheld it still ; and from its face — how fair ! 
O, how exceeding fair !x-for ever sought, 
But ever vainly sought, to turn away. 
That image, a»lrg^>ess, was Virtue ; for 
Naught else hath God given countenance so fair. 
But why in such a place it should abide ? 
What place it is ? What beings there lament ? 
\ Whence came they ? and for what their endless groan ?} 
Why curse they God ? why seek they utter death .'' 
And ehief, what means the resurrection mom f 
My youth expects thy reverend age to tell. 

Thou rightly deemst, fair youth, began the bard. 
The form thou sawst was Virtue, ever fair. 
Virtue, like God, whose excellent majesty. 
Whose glory virtue is, is omnipresent. 
No being, once created rational. 
Accountable, endowed with moral sense. 
With sapience of right and wrong endowed, 
And charged, however fallen, debased, destroyed ; 



BOOH I. 13 

However lost, forlorn, and miserable } 

In guilt's dark sbrouding wrapped, however thick ; 

However drunk, delirious, a&d mad, 

With sin's full cup ; and with whatevej^damned. 

Unnatural diligence it work and toil, ■ 

Can banish Virtue from its sight, or once 

Forget that she is ftir. Hides it in night. 

In central night ; takes it the lightning's wing, 

And flies for ever on, beyond the* bounds 

Of all ; drinks it the maddest cup of sin ; 

Dives it beneath the ocean of despair ; 

It^dives,^it ,driaks, ^it^flies, ^t^hides^in »vain. — 

For still the eternal beauty^ image fair, 

Once stamped upon the soul, before the eye 

All lovely stands^ nor will depart ; so God 

Ordaiifllr ; and lovely to the worst she seems. 

And ever seems ; and as they look, and still 

Must ever look, upon her loveliness. 

Remembrance dire of what they were, of what 

They might have been, and bitter sense of what 

They are, polluted, ruined, hopeless, lost. 

With most repenting torment rend their hearts. 

So God ordains, their punishment severe. 

Eternally inflicted by themselves. 

*Tis this, this Virtue hovering evermore. 

Before the vision of the damned, and in 

Upon their monstrous moral nakedness 

Casting unwelcome light, that makes their wo> 

That makes the essence of the endless flame. 

Where this is, there is heU, darker than aught 

That he, the bard three-visioned, darkest saw^ 

The place thou sawst was hell; the groans thou 
heardst 
The wailings of the damned,, of those who would 
Not be redeemed, and at the judgment day, 
Long past, for unrepented sins wore damned. 
The seven loud thunders which thou heardst, declare 
2 



j! 



14 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

■ 

The eternal wrath of the Ahni^hty God. 
But whence, or why they came to dwell in wo, 
Why they carse God, what tneans the glorious mom 
Of resurrection, these a longer tale 
Demand, and lead the moumfiil lyre far back 
Through memory of sin and mortal man. 
Yet haply not rewardless We shall trace 
The dark disastrous years of finished Time. 
Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy. 
.Nor yet shall all be sad ; for God gave peace, 
[Miieh peace, on earth, to all who feared his name. 

But first it needs to say, that other styJ:^ 
And other language than thy ear is wont, 
Thou must expect to hear, the dialect 
Of man. For each in heaven a relish holds .« 
Of former speech, that points to whence he came. 
But whether 1 of person speak, or place, 
Event or action, moral or divine ; 
Or things unknown compare to things unknown ; 
Allude, imply, suggest, apostrophize ; 
Or touch, when wandering through the past, on moods 
Of mind thou never feltst ; the meaning still. 
With easy apprehension, thou shalt take. 
So perfect here is knowledge, and the strings 
Of sympathy so tuned, that every word 
That each to other speaks, though never heard 
Before, at onee is fully understood. 
And every feeling uttered, fldly felt. 

So shalt thou find, as firom my various song, 
That backward rolls o'er many a tide of years, 
Directly or inferred, thy asking, thou, 
And wondering doubt, shalt leam to answer, while 
I sketch in brief the history of man. 



THE 



V 



COURSE OF TIME 



BOOK 11. 

This said, he-waked j^e golden harp, and thus, 
While on him inspiration breathed^ began. 

As from yon eyerlastiog hiUs that gird 
Heaven northward, I thy course espied, I judge 
^Fh0»£rom4haAreli«'«egio»i^««me ? Perhaps | 
^hou noticeii on thy way a little orb, | 

Attended by one moon, her lamp by night, 
With her &ir sisterhood of planets seven. 
Revolving round their central sun } she third 
In place, in magnitude the fourth. That orb. 
New made, new named, inhabited anew, — 
Though whiles we sons of Adam visit still. 
Our native place, not changed so far but we 
Can trace our ancient walks, the scenery 
Of childhood, youth, and prime, and hoary age. 
But scenery most of suffering and wo, — 
That little orb, in days remote of old, 
When angels yet were young, was made for man, 
And titled Earth, her primal virgin name ; — 
Created first so lovely, so adorned 
With hill, and dale, and lawn, and winding vale, 
Woodland, and stream, and lake, and rolling seas. 
Green mead, and firuitful tree, and fertile grain. 
And herb and flower ; so lovely, so adorned , ^, 

With numerous beasts of every kind, wit h fty |i ?L ^^ 



16 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Of everj wing and every tuneful note, 

And with all fish that in the multitude 

Of waters swam ; so loyelji bo adorned, 

So fit a dwelling place for man, that, as 

She rose, complete, at the creating word. 

The morning stars, the sons of God, aloud 

Shouted for joy ; and God, beholding, saw 

The fair design, that fromi eternity 

His mind conceived, accomplished, and, well pleased, 

His six days finished wdrk most good pronounced, 

And man declared the sovereign prince of all. 

All else was prone, irrational, and mute, 
And unaccountable, by instinct led. 
But man He made of angel form erect, • 
To hold communion with the heavens above : 
/And on his soul impressed his image fair, 
\His own similitude of holiness. 
Of virtue, truth, and love ; with reason high 
To balance right and wrong, and conscience quick 
To choose or to reject ; with knowledge great, 
Prudence and wisdom, vigilance and strength. 
To guard aU force or guile ; and, last of all, 
The highest gift of God's abundant grace. 
With perfect, free, unbiassed will. Thus man 
Was made upright, immortal made, and crowned 
The king of all ; to eat, to drink, to do 
Freely and sovereignly his will entire. 
By one command alone restrained, to prove, 
As was most just, his filial love sincere. 
His loyalty, obedience due, and faith. 
And thus the prohibition ran, expressed. 
As God is wont, in terms of plainest truth. - 

Of every tree that in the garden grows 
Thou mayest freely eat ; but of the tree 
That knowledge hath of good and ill, eat not, 
Nor touch ; for in the day thou eatest, thou 



• BOOK II. tl 17 

« 

Shalt die. . Go, and this oi^e command obey, 
Adam, live and be happy, and, with thy Eve, 
Fit coDflorti mnltiply and fill the earth. ^ 

Thus they, the MfOMnstMty^s of men, 
Were placed in Eden, choicest spot of earth. 
With royal honour and with glory crowned, 
Adam, the Lord of all,/u^estic walked. 
With godlike countenance sublime,. and form 
Ofl>gSaiflWiiBj» strength ; and by his side 
Eve^air as morning star^Jwith modesty 
|# Arrayed, with virtue, grace, and perfect love : 
In holy marriage wed, an^^loquent 
Of thought and comely words, to worship God 
And sinsT his praise, the Giverjof all good : 
f Gla4^m each other gliig, and gla^ "wC ^ 

Rejoicing in their fiiture happy race. 

O lovelyt happy, blest, immortal pair ! 
Please^ with the present, full of glorious hope. 
But short, alas, the song that sings their bliss ! 
Hoticeforth the history of man grows dark ! 
: Shade after shade of deepening gloom descends ; ; 
And Innocence laments her robes defiled. 
Who fiirther sings, must change the pleasant lyre 
To heavy notes of wo. Why ! dost thou ask. 
Surprised ? The answer will surprise thee more. 
Man sinned ; tempted, he ate the guarded tree ;— 
Tempted of whom thou afterwards shalt hear ; — 
Audacious, unbelieving, proud, imgrateful. 
He ate the interdicted firuit, and fell ', 
And in his fall, his universal race ; 
For they in him by delegation were, 
In him to stand or fall, to live or die. 

Man most ingrate ! so full of grace, to sin, 
Here interposed the new arrived, so full 
Of bliss, to sin against the Gracious One i 
2* 



18 • THE COURSE pF TIME. n 

The holy, just, and good \ the'EtemaJ Love ! 
Unseen, unheard, unthooght of wickedness \ 
Why slumbered vengeance ? No, it slumbered not. 
The ever just and righteous God would let 
His fury loose, and satisfy his threat. 

That had been just, replied the reverend bard, 
But done, fai> youth, thou ne'er hadst met itiiB here * 
I ne'er had seen yon glorious throne in peace. 

Thy powers are great, originally great, 
And purified even at the fount of light. 
Exert them now, call all their vigour out ; 
Take room, think vastly, meditate intensely. 
Reason profoundly ; send conjecture forth. 
Let fancy fly, stoop down, ascend ; all length, 
All breadth explore, all moral, all divine ; 
Ask prudence, justice, mercy ask, and might ; 
Weigh good with evil, balance right with wrong ; 
With virtue vice compare, hatred with love ; 
God's holiness, God's justice, and God's truth, 
Deliberately and cautiously compare 
With sinful, wickedfVile, rebellious man j 
And see if thou canst punish sin,, and let 
Mankind go free. Thou failst; be not surprised. 
I bade thee search in vain. Eternal love, 
( Harp, lift thy voice on high)! eternal love. 
Eternal, sovereign love, and sovereign grace, 
Wisdom, and power, and mercy infinite, 
The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, God, 
Devised the wondrous plan, devised, achieved, 
And in achieving made the marvel more. 
Attend, ye heavens ! ye heaven of heavens I attend^ 
Attend and wonder, wonder evermore I - 
When man had fallen, rebelled, insulted God ; 
Was most polluted, yet most madly proud ; 
Indebted infinitely, yet most poor ; 
Captive to sin, yet willing to be bound ; 



». 



BOOK II. 10 

To God*s incensed justice and hot wrath 

Exposed, due victim of eternal death 

And utter wo-tearp, lift thy voice on highj) 

Ye everlasting mils ! ye angels !• bow. 

Bow, ye redeemed of men ! — God Was made flesh, 

And dwelt with man on earth ! the Son of God, 

Only begotten and well beloved, between 

Men and his Father's justice interposed ; 

Put human nature on ; Jlis wrath stlsUiined ; 

And in their name suffered, obeyed) and died, 

Making his soul an offering' for sin ; 

Jui^t for unjust, and innocence for guilt, 

By doing, suffering, dying unconstrained, 

Save by omnipotence of boundless grace, 

Compldf e atonement made to God appeased ; 

Made honourable his msulted law. 

Turning the wrath aside from pardoned man. 

Thus Truth with Mercy met, and Righteousness, 

Stooping from highest heaven, embraced fair Peace, 

That walked the earth in fellowship with Love. 

O love divine ! O mercy infinite ! 

O love, all height above, all depth below. 

Surpassing far all knowledge, all desire. 

All thought ! The Holy One for sinners dies ! 

The Lord of life for guilty rebels bleeds, 

Quenches eternal fire with blood divine ! 

Abundant mercy ! overflowing grace ! 

There, whence I caine, I something heard of men. 

Their name had reached us, and report did speak 

Of some whaminMB'iSttKtA thing. 

Of desperate offence they had committed. 

And something too of wondrous grace we heard. 

And oft of our celestial visitants 

What man, what God had done, inquired ; but they, 

Forbid, our asking never met directly. 

Exhorting still to persevere upright, 



20 THE C01?RS£«0F TIME. 

And we should hear in heayen, though greatly blest 

Ourselves, new wonders of God's wondrous love. 

This hinting, keener appetite to know 

Awaked , and as we tsdl^pd, and much admired 

What new we there should learn, we hasted each 

To nourish imrtue to perfection up. 

That we might have our wondering resolved. 

And leave of louder praise to greater deeds. 

Of loving kindness due. Mysterious love! 

God was made flesh, and dwelt with men on earth t 

Blood holy, blood divine for sinners shed ! 

My asking ends, but makes my wonder more. , 

Saviour of men ! henceforth be thou my theme } 

Redeeming love, my study day and night. 

Mankind were lost, all lost, and all redeemed 1 ml 

Thou errst again, but innocently i}rrst» 
Not knowing sin's depravity, nor man'a 
Sincere and persevering wickedness. 
All were redeemed ? Not all, or thou hadst heard 
No human voice in hell. Many refused. 
Although beseeched, refused to be redeemed. 
Redeemed from death to life, from wo to bliss ! 

Canst thou believe my song when thus I sing ? 
When man had fallen, was ruined, hopeless, lost — 
Ye choral harps ! ye angels that excel 
In strength ! and loudest, ye redeemed of men ! 
To God, to Him that sits upon the throne 
On high, and to the Lamb, sing honour, sing 
Dominion, glory, blessing sing, and praise ! — 
When man had fallen, was ruined, hopeless, lost, 
Messiah, Prince of Peace, Eternal King, 
Died, that the dead might live, the lost be saved. 
Wonder, O heavens ! and be astonished, earth ! 
Thou ancient, thou forgotten earth ! ye worlds admire ! 
Admire and be confounded ! and thou hell, 
Deepen thy eternal groan !-— men would not be 



\,' 



BOOK lit 21 

Redeemed, — I speak of many, not of all, — 
Would not be eaved for lost, have life for death ! 

MysteriouB song ! the new arrived exclaimed, 
Mysterious meroy ! most mysterious hate ! 
To disobey was mad, this madder far. 
Incurable insanity of ^iU ! 
What now but wrath could guilty men expect ? 
What more could love, what mere could mercy do P 

No more, resumed the bard, no more they could. 
Thou hast seen heU. The wicked there lament ! 
And why ? for love and mercy twice deqiised. 
The liusbandman, who sluggishly forgot 
In spriag to plough and sow, eould censure none, 
/Though winter clamoured round his empty bams. 
But he who, having thus neglected, did 
Refuse, when autumn came, and famine threatened, 
To reap the golden field that charity 
Bestowed ; nay, more obdurate, proud, and blind. 
And stupid still, refused, though much beseeched, 
And long entreated, even with Mercy's tears, 
To eat what to his very lips was held. 
Cooked temptingly, — ^he certainly, at least, 
Deserved to die of hunger, unbemoaned. 
So did the wicked spurn the grace of God ; 
And so were punished with the second death. 
The first, no doubt, punition less severe 
Intended ; death, belike, of all entire. 
But this incurred, by God discharged, and life 
Freely presented, and again despised. 
Despised, though bought with Mercy's proper blood, 
'Twas this 4mg hell, and kindled all its bounds 
With wrath and inextinguishable fire. 

Free was the offer, firee to all, of life 
And of salvation; but the proud of heart. 
Because 'twas free, would not accept > and still 



it -• 



22 THE COURSE OF TIME. 



To merit wished ; and chooong, tfaiu unshipped, * 

Uncompassed, unprovisioned, and bestorwed, . 

To swim a sea of breadth immeasarable, 

They scorned the ^^oodlj bark> whose wings the breath 

Of God*8 eternal Spirit filled for hearen, 

That stopped to take them in, and so were lost. 

• 

What wonders dost thou tell ! To merit, how ! 
Of creature meriting in flight ofiGqd, 
As right of service done, I never heard 
Till now. We never fell ; in virtue stood 
Upright, and persevered in holiness ; 
But stood by grace, by grace we persevered. 
Ourselves, our deeds, our holiest, highest deeds 
Unworthy aught ; grace worthy endless praise. • 
If we fly swift, obedieAt to his will. 
He gives us wings to fly ; if we resist 
Temptation, and ne'er fall, it is his shield 
Omnipotent that wards it off; if we. 
With love unquenchable, before him burn, 
'Tis he that lights and keeps alive the flame. 
J^en surely lost their reason in their fall, 
And did not understand the offer made. 

They might have understood, the bard replied ; 
TShaeyL Jind th e ■ B ible. Hast thou ever heard 
Of such a^book ? The author, God himself; 
The subject; Crod and man, salvation, life 
And death— eternal lifb, eternal death — 
Dread words ! whose meaning has no end, no bounds — 
Most wondrous hook! bright eaadle-of the Lord ! 
/Star of eternity ! the only star 
, By which the bark of man could navigate 
The sea of life, and gain the coast of bliss 
fl t iinmij i ! only star which rose on Time, 
And, on its dark and troubled billows, still, 
As generation, drifting swiftly by. 
Succeeded generation, threw a ray 



^m 



BOOK II. ' 23 

Of heaven's ijrvm ligltt, and to the hilk of God, 

The eterhal hills, pointed the sinner's eye. 

By prophets, seers, and priests, and saored bturds, 

Evangelists, apostles, men inspired, 

And by the Hol^ Ghost anointed, set 

Apart and consecrated to declare 

To Earth the counsels of the Eternal One, 

This book, this holiest, this sublimest book, 

Was sent. Heaven's will, Heaven's code of laws entire, 

To man, this book contained ; defined the bounds 

Of vice and virtue, and of life and death; 

And what was shadow, what was substance taught. 

Much it revealed ; important all ; the least 

Worth more than what else seemed of highest worth, 

But this of plainest, most essei^^al truth : 

That God is one, eternal, holy, just. 

Omnipotent, Mnniscient, infimte ; 

Most wise, most good, most merciful and true ', 

In all perfection most unchangeable : 

That man, that every man of every clime 

And hue, of every age and eyerj rai^. 

Was bad, by nature and by practice bad ', 

In understanding blind, in will perverse. 

In heart corrupt ; in every thought, and word. 

Imagination, passion^ and desire. 

Most utterly depraved throughout, and ill, 

In sight of Heaven, though leas in sight of man ; 

At enmity with God his maker bom, 

And by his very Hfe an heir of death : 

That man, that every man was, farther, most 

Unable to redeem himself, or pay 

One mite of his vast debt to God ; nay, niore> 

Was most reluctant and averse to be 

Redeemed, and sin's most voluntary slave : 

That Jesus, Son of God, of Mary bom 

In Bethlehem, and by Pilate crucified 

On Calvary, for man thus ftllen and lost. 

Died ', and) by death, lifb and salvation bought, 



24 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And perfect righteousness, for all who should 
* In his great name believe : That He, the third * 
In the eternal Essence, to the prayer ' 
Sincere should come, should come as soon as asked. 
Proceeding from the Father and the Son, 
To give fiuth and repentance, such as God 
Accepts ; to open the intellectual eyes, 
Blinded by sin ; to bend the stubborn will. 
Perversely to tliM' siile aJmmtflig inclined, 
To God and his commandments, just and gopd ; 
The wild, rebellious passions to subdue, '' 
And bring them back to harmony with heaven ; 
To purify the conscience, and to lead 
The mind into all truth, and to adorn 
With every holy ornaiq^t of grace, 
And sanctify the whole renewed soul, 
Which henceforth might no more fidl totally, 
But persevere, though erring oft, amidst 
The mists of Time, in piety to God, 
And sacred works of charity to men : 
That he who thus believed, and practised thus, 
Should have his sins forgiven, however vile ; 

/'Should be sustained at mid-day, mom, and even, 

^l|y_God's omnipotent, eternal grace : 
And in the evil hour of sore disease, 
Temptation, persecution, war, and deaths — 
For temporal death, although onstinged, remained^ — 
Beneath the shadow of the Almighty's wings 
Should sit unhurt, and at the judgment-day, 
Should share the resurrection of the just, 
And reign with Christ in bliss for evermore : 
That all, however named, however great. 
Who would not thus believe, nor practise thus, 
But in their sins imp^iitent remained. 
Should in perpetual fear- and terror live ; 
Should die unpardoned, unredeemed, unsaved ; 
And, at the hour of doom, should be cast out 
To utter darkness in the night of hell, 



m0H 






BOOK Hi 25 

By mercy and by God abandoned, there 
To reap the harvests of eternal wo. 

This did that book declare in obTJous phrase. 
In most sincere and honest words, by God 
Himself selected and arranged, so clear. 
So plain, so perfectly distinct, that none. 
Who read with humble wish to understand^ 
And asked the Spirit, given to all who asked. 
Could miss their meaning, blazed in heavenly light 

This hoaky this holy book, on every line 
Marked with the seal of high divinity, 

/On every leaf bedewed with drops of love 

(Divine, and with the eternal heraldry 
And signature of God Almighty stamped * 
From first to last, this ray of sacred light, 
This lamp, from off the everlasting throne, 
Mercy took down, and, in the night of Time 
Stood, casting on the dark her gracious bow ', 
And evermore beseeching men, with tears 
And earnest sighs, to read, believe, and live. 
And many to her voice gave ear, and read, 
Believed, obeyed ; and now, as the Amen, 
True, Faithfiil Witness swore, with snowy robes 
And branchy palms, surrou^ the fount of life. 
And drink the streams of immortality^, 
For ever happy, and for ever young. 

Many believed ; but more the truth of God 
Turned to a lie, deceiving and deceived ; 
Each with the accursed sorcery of sin, 
To his own wish and vile propensity 
^Sc auatuB Biiiygtifeffie- meaning of th e jgfci . 

Hear, while I briefly tell what mortals proved. 
By effi)rt vast of ingenuity, 
Most wondrous, though perverse and damnable, 
3 



26 THE COeSSE OF TIME. 

Proved from the Bible, wbich^ as thou hart heard. 

Bo plainly spoke that all could understand. 

First, and not least in number, argued some, 

From out this book itself, it was a lie, 

A iable framed by crafly men to cheat 

The simple herd, and make them bow the knee 

To kings and priests. These in their wisdom left 

The light revealed, and turned to fancies wild ; 

Maintaining loud, that ruined, fielpless man, 

Needed no Saviour. Others proved that men 

Might live and die in sin, and yet be saved. 

For So it was decreed ; binding the will, ^ 

By (}od left free, to unconditional, 

Unretisonable late. Others believed - 

That he who was most criminal, debased. 

Condemned, and dead, unaided might ascend 

The heights of virtue ; to a perfect law 

Giviilg a lame, half-way obedience, which 

By useless effort only served to show 

The impotence of him who vainly strove 

With finite arm to measure infinite ; 

Most Useless effort, when to justify 

In sight of God it meant, as proof of faith 

Most acceptable and worthy of all praise. 

Another held, and from the Bible held, 

He was infallible, most fall^ by s]ich 

Pretence ; that none the Scriptures, open to all, 

And most to humble-hearted, ought to read, 

But priests ; that all who ventured to disclaim 

His forged authority, incurred the wrath 

Of Heaven; and he who, in the blood of such, 

Though fiither, mother, daughter, wife, or son, 

Imbrued his hands, did most religious work. 

Well pleasing to the heart of the Most High. 

Others in outward rite devotion placed, 

In~ineats, in drinks, in robe of certain BhiKpe, 

In bodily abasements, bended knees ; 

Pays, numbers, places, vestments, words, and names ^ 



BOOK II. 



27 



/ 



Absurdly in their hearts imagining, 

That God, like men, wais pleased with outward show. 

Another, stranger and more wicked still. 

With dark and dolorous labour^ ill applied, 

With many a^ripe of conscience, and with most 

Unheidtfiy and abortive reasoning. 

That brought his sanity to serious doubt, 

'Mong wise and honest men, maintuned that He, 

First Wisdom, Great Messiah, Prince of Peaee, 

The second of the uncreated Three, 

Was naught but man, of earthly origin : 

Thus making void the sacrifice divine, 

And leaving guilty men, God's holy law 

Still unatoned, 1;p work them endless death. 



X 



These are a part ; but to relate thee all 
The monstrous, unbaptized fantasies. 
Imaginations fearfully absurd. 
Hobgoblin rites, and moon-struck reveries, 
Distracted cree^, and visionary dreams, 
More bodiless and hideously misshapen 
I^Than ever fancy, at the noon of night, 
(JPlaying at will, framed in the madman's brain, 
That from this book of simple truth were proved, 
Were proved, as foolish men were wont to prove. 
Would bring my word in doubt, and thy belief 
V Stagger, though here I sit and sing, within 
^ The pale of truth, where falsehood never came. 
\ t i \ i 
The rest, who lost the heavenly light revealed, 
Not wishing to retain God in their minds, 
In darkness wandered on. Tet could they not. 
Though moral night around them drew her pall 
Of blackness, rest in utter unbelief. 
The voice within, the voice of God, that naught 
Could bribe to sleep, though steeped in sorceries 
Of hell, and much abused by whis^rings 
Of evil spirits in the dark, announced 



r 



CTc 



./.- 



f i 



28 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

- A day of judgment and a Judge, a day 
Of misery or blisB : and, being ill 
At ease, for gods they chose^them stocks and stones, 
Reptiles, and weeds, and beasts, and creeping things 
And spirits accursed, ten thousand deities ! 
Imagined worse than he who craved their peace ; 
And, bowing, worshipped these, as best beseemed, 
With midnight revelry obscene and loud, 
With dark, infernal, devilish ceremonies. 
And horrid sacrifice of human flesh. 
That made«irii» fair heaven| blush. So bad was sin ; 
So lost, so ruined, so depraved was man, 
Created first in God's own image fair. 

Oh, cursed, cursed Sin ! traitoi: to God, 

And miner of man ! mother of Wo, 

And Death, and Hell ! wretched, yet seeking worse ; 

Polluted most, yet wallowing in the mire ; 

Most mad, yet drinking Frenzy's giddy cup ; 

Depth ever deepening, darkness darkening still ; 

Folly for wisdom, guilt for innocence ; 

Anguish for rapture, and for hope despair ; 

Destroyed, destrojring ; in tormenting, pained ; 

Unawed by wrath, by mercy unreclaimed ; 

Thing most unsightly, most forlorn, most sad, 

Thy time on earth is passed, thy war with God 

And holiness. But who, oh, who shall tell, 

Thy unrepentable and ruinous thoughts! 

Thy sighs, thy groans ! who reckon thy burning tears, 

And damned looks of everlasting grief. 

Where now, with those who took their part with thee, 

Thou sitt'st in hell, gnawed by the eternal Worm, 

To hurt no more, on all the holy hills ! 

That those, deserting once the lamp of truth, 
Should wander ever on, from worse to worse 
Erroneously, thy wonder needs not ask : 
But that enliglitamdytpMOniM^^iiMj 



BOOK 11. 29 

Knowing themselves axseouiftable, t6 whom 

God spoke from heaven, and by his eervab^s warned, 

Both day and night, with earnest, [heading voice, 

Of retribution eqaal to their works, 

Shouldpersevere in evil, andbelost, — 

This strangeness, this onpardonable gnilt, 

Demands an answer, which my song nnfi^ds, 

In part, directly ; but, hereafter, more, 

To satisfy thy wonder, thon shalt leam, 

Inferring much from what is yet to sing. 

Know, then, of men who sat in highest place, 
Exalted, and for sin by others done 
Were chargeable, the king and pxiests were chief. 
Many were fidthiul, holy, just, upright, 
Faithful to God and man, reigning renowned 
In righteousness, and, to the people, loud 
And fearless, speaking all the words of life. 
These, at the judgment-day, as thou shalt hear. 
Abundant harvest reaped. But many, too, 
Alas, how many ! famous now in heU, 
Were wicked, cruel, tyrannous, and vile ; 
Ambitious of themselves, abandoned, mad ; 
And still from servants hasting to be gods, 
Such gods as now they serve in Erebus. 
I pass their lewd example by, that led 
So many wrong, for courtly fashion lost, 
And prove them guilty of one crime alone. 
Of every wicked ruler, prince supreme, 
Or magistrate below, the one intent, 
Purpose, desire, and struggle, day and night, 
Was evermore to wrest the crown from off 
Messiah's head, and put it on his own ; 
And in His place give spiritual laws to men ; 
To bind relt^on, free by birth, by God 
And nature free, and made accountable 
To none but God, behind the Wheels of state ; 
To make the holy altar, vdiere the Prince 
3* 







80 THE CODRSE OF ITIME. 

Of life, ineamate, bled to rAiflom man, 

A footstool to the throne. For this they met, 

Assembled, counselled, meditated, planned; 

Devised in open and secret ; and for this 

Enacted creeds of wondrous texture^ creeds 

The Bible never owned, unsanctioned too. 

And reprobate in heaven ; but by the power 

That made, — exerted now in gentler form, 

Monopolizing rights and privileges. 

Equal to all, and waving now the sword 

Of persecution fierce, tempered in hell,— 

Forced on the conscience of inferior men : 

The conscience, that sole monarchy in man, 

Owing allegiance to no earthly prince } 

Made by the edict of creation free ; 

Made sacred, made above all human laws ; ,. 

Holding of heaven alone ; of most divine 

And indefeasible authority ; 

An individual sovereignty, that none 

Created might, unpunished, bind or touch ; 

Unbound, save by the eternal laws of God, 

And unamenable to all below. 

-^ Thus did the uncircumcised potentates i . • • 
Of earth debase religion in the sight 
Of those they ruled, who, looking up, beheld 
The fair celestial gift despised, enslaved ; 
And, mimicking the folly of the great. 
With prompt docility despised her too. 

The prince or magistrate, however named 
Or praised, who, knowing better, acted thus, 
Was wicked, and received, as he deserved. 
Damnation. But the unfaithful priest, what tongue 
Enough shall execrate ? His doctrine may 
Be passed, though mixed with most unhallowed leaven. 
That proved, to those who foolishly partook, 
Eternal bittemesk. But this was still 



BOOK II. 3J 

His sin, beneath what cloaf soever veif^d^ 

His ever growing and perpetual sin, 

First, last, and middle thought, whence every wish^ 

Whence every action rose, and ended both : 

To mount to place, and power of worldly sort ; 

To ape the gaudy pomp and equipage 

Of earthly state, and oa his mitred brow 

To place a royal crown. For this he sold 

The sacred truth tq him who most would give 

Of titles, benefices, honours, names ; 

For this betrayed his Master ; and for this 

Made merchandise of the immortal souls 

Committed to bis care. This was his sin. 

Of an who office held unfairly, none 
Could plead excuse ; he least and last of all. 
By solemn, awful ceremony, he 
Was set apart to speak the truth entird. 
By action and by word ; and round him stood 
The people, from his lips expecting knowledge. 
One day in seven, the Holy Sabbath termed. 
They stood ; for he had sworn, in face of God 
And man, to deal sincerely with their souls ; 
To preach the gospel for the gospel's sake ; 
Had sworn to hate and put away all pride. 
All vanity, all love of earthly pomp ; ^ 

To seek all- mercy, meekness, truth, and grace ; 
And being so endowed himself, and taught, 
in them like works of holiness to move j 
Dividing fwthfully the word of life. 
And oft indeed the word of life he taught ; 
But practising as thou hast heard, who coiiM 
Believe ? Thus was Religion wounded sore 
At her own altars, and among her friends. 
The people went away, and, like the priest, 
JPuliilling what the prophet spoke before, 

(Tor honour strove, and wealth, and place, as if 

^ The preacher had rehearsed an idle tale. 



32 TitB COURSE OF TIME. * 

The enemies of God rejoiced, and loud 
The unbelieTer laughed, boasting a life 
Of fairer character than his, who owned, 
For king and guide, the undefiled One. 

Most guilty, TiUanous, dishonest man ! 
Wolf in the clothing of the gentle lamb ! 
Dark traitor in Messiah's holy camp ! 
Leper in saintly garb ! assasan masked 
In Virtue's robe ! yile hypocrite accursed I 
I strive in vain to set his evil forth ! 
The words that should sufficiently aceurse 
And execrate such reprobate, had need 
Come glowing from the lips of eldest hell. 
Among the saddest in the den of wo, [damned. 

Thou sawst him saddest, 'mong the damned, most 

But why should I with indignation bum, 
Not well beseeming here, and long forgot ? 
Or why one censure for another's sin ? 
Each had his conscience, each his reason, will, 
And un<!ferstanding, for himself to search, 
To choose, reject, believe, consider, act. 
And God proclaimed from heaven, and by an oath 
Confirmed, that each should answer for himself: 
And as his own peculiar work should be. 
Done by his proper self, should live or die. " 
But sin, deceitful and deceiving still, 
Had gained the heart, and reason led astray. 

A strange belief, that leaned its idiot back 
On folly's topmost twig, — ^belief that God, 
Most wise, had made a world, had creatures made, 
Beneath his care to govern and protect,— 
Devoured its thousands. Reason, not the true, 
Learned, deep, sober, comprehensive, sound ; 
But bigoted, one-eyed, short-sighted Reason, 
Most zealous, and sometimes, no doubt, sincere. 






BOOK u. 33 

Devoured its thdusands. Vanity to be 
Renowned for cre^ eccentrical, devoured 
Its thousands ; but a lazy, corpulent, 

/And over-credulous fidtfa, that leaned on all 

V|tmet, nor asked if 'twas a reed or oak ; . 
Stepped otk, bat never earnestly inquired 
Whether to heaven or hell the journey led, 
Devoured its tens of thousands, and its hands 
Made reddest in the precious blood of souls. 

In Timers pur^its men ran till out of breath. 

The astronomer soared up, and counted stars, 
fAnA gazed, and gazed upon the heaven's bright face,) 
VXiU he dropped down dim-eyed into the grave. r~ -^ 

The numerist, in calculations <leep, 
' Grew gray. The merchant at bis desk expired* 
' The statesman hunted for another place. 

Till death overtook him, and made him his prey. 

The miser spent his eldest energy 

In grasping for another mite. The scribe 

Rubbed pensively his old and withered brow, 

Devising new impediments to hold 

In doubt, the suit that threatened to end too soon. 

The priest collected tithes, and pleaded rights 

Of decimation to the very last. 

In science, learning, all philosophy, 

Men laboured all their days, and laboured hard, 

And, dying, sighed how little they had done. 

But in religion, they at once grew wise. 

A creed in print, though never understood ; 

A theologic system on the shelf, 

Was spiritual lore enough, and served their turn ; 

But served it ill. T^ey sinned, and never knew. 

For what the Bible said of good and bad, 

Of holiness and sin, the^ never asked. 

Absurd, prodigiously absurd, to think 
That man*s minute and feeble fiicultiesi 



34 rnt course of tim£. 

Eren in the very childhood of his hwag^ 
(With mortal sluidowB dimmed and wrapped around,) 
Could comprehend at once the mighty echemei "^ 
Where rolled the ocean of eternal love ; 
Where wisdom infinite its master-strdie 
Displayed ; and where omnipotence, oppressed, 
Did travail in the greatness of its strength ; 
And everlasting justice lifted up 
The sword to smite the guiltless Son of God ; 
And mercy smiling hade the sinner go ! 

/Redemption is the science and the song 

I Of all eternity. Archange^day 
And night into its glories look. The saints, 

! The elders round the Throne, old in the years 
Of heaven, examine it perpetually ; 
A|id, every hoiy, get clearer, ,amplec views / , 
Ot righ^ and wironjjf ; see 'Virtue'^ heauiy ipcafe ; 
S^e vic4 mt>re ^jitterly depraved knd vi|e ; - , 
Aiidjthi^, v^h t more perfect hatred, l|ate; i 
Tluit dadly love'^with a inore per^ct loi/^. t ' 

But whether I for man's perdition hlame 
Office administered amiss, pursuit 
Of pleasure false, perverted reason blind, 
Or indolence that ne'er inquired ; I blame 
- Effect and consequence, the branch, the leaf. 
Who finds the fount and bitter root, the fibfst 
And guiltiest cause whence sprung this endless wo, 
Must deep descend into the human heart. 
And find it there. Dread passion ! making men 
On earth, and even in hell, if Mercy yet 
Would stoop so low, unwilling to be saved, 
If saved by grace of God. Hear, then, in brief, 
What peopled hell, what holds its prisoners there. 

Pride, self-adoring pride, was primal cause 
Of all sin passed, all pain, all wo to come. 
Unconquerable pride ! first, eldest sm, 



BOOK II. 35 

Great fountain-head of evil ! highest (source. 
Whence flow^ rebellion 'gainst the Omnipotent, 
Whence hate of man to man, and all else iU. 
Pride at the bottom of the human heart 
Lay, and gave root and nourishment to all 
That grew above. Great ancestor of vice ! 
Hate, unbelief, and blasphemy of God ; 
Envy and slander, malice and revenge ;. 
And tnurder, and deceit, and every birth 
Of damned sort, was progeny of pride. 
It was the ever-moving, actihg force. 
The constant aim, and the most thirsty wish 
*Of every sinner unrenewed, to be 
A god ; in purple or in ra^, to have 
Himself adored. Whatever shape or form 
His actions took, whatever phraae he threw 
About his thoughts, or mantle o'er his life, 
To be the highest was the inward cause 
.Of all ; the purpose of the heart to be 
Set up, admired, obeyed. But who would bow 
The knee to one who served and was dependent ? 
Hence man's perpetual struggle, night and day, 
' To prove he was his own proprietor. 
And independent of his God, that what 
He had might be esteemed his own, and praised 
As such. He laboured still and tried to stand 
Alone, unpropped, to be obliged to none ; 
And in the madness of his pride, he bade 
His God farewell, and turned away to be 
A god himself: resolving to rely. 
Whatever came, upon his own right hand. 

O desperate frenzy ! madness of the will ! 
And drunkenness of the heart ! that naught could quencll 
But floods of wo, poured from the sea of wrath, 
Behmd which mercy set. To thmk to turn 
The back on life original, and live ! 
The creature to set up a rival throne 



'1 



36 THE COURSE OP TIMS. 

In the Creator's realm ! to deify 

A worm ! and in the sight of G«d be proud f 

To lift an arm of flesh against the shafts ■ 

Of the Omnipotent, and, midst his wrath, 

To seek for happiness I — ^insanity 

Most mad! guilt most complete! -Seest thoa tlioi* 

worlds * •• 

That roll at Tarious distance found the tVoo® 
Of God, innumerons, and flU the calm . ' '- ' 
Of heaven with sweetest hannony, when saint» 
And angels sleep ? As one of these, from l6ve 
Centripetal, withdrawing, and from light, 
And heat, and nourishment cut off, should rush 
Abandoned o'er the line that runs between 
Create and increate, from ruin driven 
To ruin still, through the abortive waste ; 
So pride from God drew off the bad ; and so 
Forsaken of him, he lets them over tty 
Their singlearm against the second death ; 
Amidst vindictive thunders lets them try 
The stoutness of their hearts, and lets them try 
To quench their thirst amidst the unfading fire ; 
And to reap joy where he has sown despair ; 
To walk alone, unguided, unbemoaned, 
Where Evil dwells, and Death, and moral Night ; 
In utter emptiness to find enough ; 
In utter dark find light ; and find repose. 
Where God with tempest plagues for evermore. 
For so they wished it, so did pride desire. 

Such was the cause that turned so many off 
Rebelliously from God, and led them on 
From vain to vainer still, in endless chase. 
And such the cause that made so many cheeks 
Pale, and so many hnees to shake, when men 
Rose from the grave ; as thou shalt hear anon.' 



. THE 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK III. 



/B£HOLD9'i''thou yonder, on the crystal sea, 
/ Beneath the throne of God, an image fair, 
y^ And in its hand a mirror large and bright ? 
'Tis truth, immutable, eternal truth) 
In figure emblematical expressed. 
Before it Virtue stands, and smiling sees, 
Well pleased, in her reflected soul, no spot. 
The sons of heaven, archangel, seraph, saint. 
There daily read their own essential worth ; 
And, as they read, take place among the just ; 
Or high, or low, each as his value seams. 
There each his certain interest learns, his trae 
Capacity ; and, going thence, pursues. 
Unerringly, through all the tracts of thought, 
As God ordains, best ends by wisest means. • 

The Bible held this mirror's place on earth. 
But, few would read, or, reading, saw themselves. 
The chase was after shadows, phantoms strange, 
Thott in the twilight walked of Time, and mocked 
The eager hunt, escaping evermore. 
Yet with so many promises and looks 
Of gentle sort, that he whose arms returned 
Empty a thousand times, still stretched them out, 
And, grasping, brought them back again unfilled. 
4 



3d ' THE COURSE OF TIMB* 

In rapid outline thou hagt he^d of man. 
His death, his offered life, that life by most 
Despised, the Star of God, t|ie Bible, scorned. 
That else to happiness and heaven had led, 
Aftd saved my lyre from narrative of wo. 
Hear now more largely of the ways of Time, 
The fond pursuitc and vanities ofrafiu. 

" Love God, love truth, lova. virtue, and be happy ;'* 
These were ihA words first uttered in the ear 
Of every being rational made, and made 
For thought, or word, m deed accountable. 
Most men the first forgot, the second none. 
Whatever path they took, by hill or vale. 
By night or day, the universal wish. 
The aim, and sole intent, was happiness. 
But, erring firom the heaven-appointed path. 
Strange tracks indeed they took through barren wastes, 
And up the sandy moimtain climbing toiled^ 
Which pining lay beneath the curse of God, 
And naught produced. Yet did the traveller look 
And point his eye before him greedily, 
As if he saw some verdant spot, where grew 
The heavenly flower, where sprung the well of life, 
Where undisturbed felicity reposed ; 
Though Wisdom's eye no vestige could discern, 
That Happiness bad ever passed that way. 

Wisdom was right, for still the terms remained 
Unchanged', unchangeable, the terms on which 
True peace was given to man, unchanged as God, 
Who, in his own essential nature, binds 
Eternally to virtue happiness. 
Nor lets them part through all his universe. 

Philosophy, as thou shalt hear, when she 
Shall have her praise, her praise and censure too, - 
Did much, refining afid exalting man ; 



< / 



BOOK III. 39 

But could iidt ninfie ft single plant that bore 

True hapi^nMi. From age to age she toiled, 

Shed £rom her eyes the mist tliat dimmed them stUI, 

Lo<^d fbr& on man, explored the wild and tame, 

The savage and polite ^ the eeajand land, "• 

And starry heavens; and then retired far back 

To meditation's silent, shady seat ; 

And there sat pale^ and thougktfully, and weighed 

With wary, most exact, and scrupulous care, 

Man's nature, paseions, hopes, propemdtios, 

ftelat^ens, and pwsuits, in reason's scale ; 

And searched a^^d weighed, and weighed and searched 

again, 
And many a fkir and goodly volume wrote, 
That seemed well worded too, wherein were found 
Uncountable receipts, pretending each. 
If carefUly attended to, to cure 
Mankind of folly, to root out the briers, 
And thorns', and weeds, that choked the growth of joy ; 
And showing too, in plain and decent phrase, 
Which sounded much like Wisdom's, how to plant. 
To shelter, water, culture, prune, and rear 
The tree of happiness"; and oft their plans 
.Were tried ; but stiH the firuit was green and sour. . 

« - 

Of all the trees that in Earth's vineyard grew. 
And with their clusters tempted man to puU 
And eat, one tree, one tree alone, the true 
Celestial manna bore, which filled the soul. 
The tree of holiness, of heavenly seed, 
A native of the skies ; though stunted much 
And dwarfed, by Time's cold, damp, ungenial soil, 
And chilling winds, yet yielding fruit so pure, 
80 nourishing and sweet, as, on his way, 
Refireshed the pilgrim ; and begot desire 
Unquenchable to climb the arduous path 
To where her sister plants, in their own clime, 
Around the founts and by the streaxn of life. 



40* * THB 0OURSE OF TIME. 

Blooming beneath the Stm that never eets, 
Beiir firuit of perfect relish lully ripe. 

To plant this tree, uprooted by the fall, 
To earth the Son of God descended, shed 
His precious blood ; and on it evermore, 
From off his living wings, the Spirit shook 
The dews of heaven, to nurse and- hasten its growth. 
Nor was this care, this infinite expense. 
Not needed to secure the holy plant. 
To root it out, and wither it from earth, ' 
Hell strove with all its strength, and blew with all 
Its blasts ! and Sin, with cold, consumptive breath, 
Involved it still in clouds of mortal damp. 
Yet did it grow, thus kept, protected thus ; 
And bear the only fruit of true delight ; 



^ But, few, alas ! the holy plant could, see, 
- For kMWPT mists that Sin around it threw 



/ 



y^^-J 



^ ■> 



Perpetually ; and few the sacrifice 
Would make, by which alone its clusters stooped, 
And came within the reach of mortal man. 
For this, of him who would approach and eat, 
Was rigorously exacted to the full : 
To tread and bruise beHeath the foot the world 
Entire ; its prides, ambitions, hopes, desires ; 
Its gold and all its broidered equipage ; 
TTo loose its loves and friendships from the hearty a ^ , r 
V And cast them off ;^ shut the ear against ■ ^ ' i? 

(its praise, an d all its flatt e ri ss • b h enf - .^.'' 
And, having thus behind him thrown what seemed 
So good and fair, then must he lowly kneel, 
And with sincerity, in which the Eye 
That slumbers not, nor sleeps, could see no lack. 
This prayer pray : " Lord, God ! thy will be done. 
Thy holy will, howe'er it cross my own.'' 
Hard labour this for flesh and blood ! too hard 



^. 



BOOK lit. 41 

YWmost it Beemed. 80, taming, they the tree 

Derided as mere bramble, that eould bear 

No fruit of «pecfal taste ; and so set out 

Upon ten thousand different routes to seek 

What they had left behind, to seek what they 

Had lost. For still as something once p<libses^d 

^nd lost, true happiness appeared. All thought 

They once were happy ; and evpn while they smoked 

And panted in the chase, believed themselves 

More miserable to-day than yesterday, 

^o-morrow thaa to-day. When youth complained, 

^he ancient sinner shook his hoary iiead, 

As if he meai^ to say. Stop till you come 

My length, and then you may have cause to sigh. 

At twenty, cried the boy, who now had seen 

Some biemish in his joys. How happily 

Plays yonder chfld that busks the mimic babe, 

^nd gathers gentle flowers, and never sigh^l" 

Ai forty, in the fervour of pursuit, 

Far on in disappointment's dreary vale^ 

The grave and sage-Uke man looked back upon 

The stripling youth of plump uaseued hope, , 

Who galloped gay and briskly up behind, 

And, moaning, wished himself eighteen again. 

And he, of threescore years and ten, in whose 

Chilled eye, fatigued with gaping after hope, 

Earth^s freshest verdure seemed but blasted leaves, 

Praised childhood, youth, and manhood ', and denounced 

Old age alone as barren of all joy. 

Decisive proof that men ha4 left behind 

The happiness they sought, and taken, a most 

Erroneous path ; since every step they took 

Was deeper mire. Yet did they onward run, 

Pursuing Hope that danced before them still. 

And beckoned them to proceed ; and with their l^ands, 

That shook and trembled piteously with age, 

Grasped at the lying Shade, even till the earth 

Beneath them broke, and wrapped them in the grave^ 

4* -* 



42 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Sometimes indeed, when Wisdom in their ear 
Whispered, and with its disenchanting wand, 
Effectnally touched the sorcery of their eyesj 
Directly pointing to the holy tree, 
Where grew the food they songht, 4hej turned^ sur- 
prised 
That they had missed so long what now they found. 
As one upon whose mind some new and rare 
Idea glances, and retires as quick. 
Ere memory has time to write it down ; 
Stung with the loss, into a thoughtful cast, 
He throws his face, and rubs his vexQd brow ; 
Searches each nook and corner of his soul 
With frequent care ; reflects, and rO'reflects, 
And tries to touch relations that may start 
The fugitive again ; and oft is foiled ; 
Till something like a seeming chance, or flight 
Of random fancy, when expected least, 
Calls back the wandered thought, long sought in vain ; 
Then does uncommon joy fill all his mind ', 
And still he wonders, as he holds it fast. 
What lay so near he could not sooner find : 
So did the man rejoice, when from his eye 
The film of folly fell, and what he, day 
And night, and far and near, had idly searched, 
Sprung up before him suddenly displayed ; 
So wondered why he missed the tree so long. 

But, few returned from folly's giddy chase. 
Few heard the voice of Wisdom, or obeyed. 
Keen was the search, and various, and wide, 
Without, within, along the flowery vale, 
And up the rugged cliff, and on the top 
Of mountains high, and on the ocean wave. 
Keen was the search, arid various, and wide, 
And ever and anon a shout was heard : 
« Ho ! here's the tree of life ! come, eat, and live !" 
Aid round the new discoverer quick they flocked 



BOOK III. 43 

Ibn multitudes, and plucked, and with great haste 
•.Devoured ; and sometimes in the lips 'twas sweet*, 
And promised well ; but, in the belly gall. 
Yet aiier him that cried again. Ho ! here's 
The tree of life ! again they ran, and pulled, 
And chewed again, and found it bitter still* 
From disappointment on to disappointment. 
Tear after year, age after age, pursued, 
The child, the youth, the hoary-headed man, 
Alike pursued, and ne*er grew wise. For it 
Was folly's most peculiar attribute, 
! And native act, to opiake experience void. 

But hastily, as pleasures tasted, turned 
To loathing and disgust, they needed not 
Even such experiment to prove them vain. 
In hope or in possession. Fear, alike, 
Boding disaster, stood. Over the flower 
Of fairest sort, that bloomed beneath the sun. 
Protected most, and sheltered from the storm, 
The Spectre, like a dark and thunderous cloud, 
Hung dismally, and threatened, before the hand 
Of him that wished, could pull it, to descend. 
And o'er the desert drive its withered leaves ; 
Or, being pulled, to blast it unenjoyed. 
While yet he gazed ufion its loveliness, 
And just began to drink its fragrance up. 

Gold many hunted, sweat and bled for gold ; 
Waked all iJie night, and laboured all the day. 
And what was this allurement dost thou ask ? 
A dust dug from the bowels of the earth. 
Which, being cast into the fire, came out 
A shining thing that fools admired, and called 
A god ; and in devout and humble plight 
Before it kneeled, the greater to the less ; 
And on its altax sacrificed ease, peace. 
Truth, faith, integrity ; good conscience, friends, ^ 



44 THE* COURSE OF TIME. 

Love, charity, benevolence, and all 

The BWiBet and tender sympathies of life ', 

And, to complete the horrid murderous rite, 

And signalize their folly, offered up 

Their souls and an eternity of bliss. 

To gain them — ^wfiat ? — an hour of dreaming joy, 

A feverish hour that hasted to be done, 

And ended in the bitterness of wo. 

Most, for the luxuries it bought, the pomp. 
The praise, the glitter, fashion, and renown. 
This yellow phantom followed and adored. 
But there was one in folly farther gone, 
With eye awry, incurable, and wild. 
The laughing-stock of devils and of men. 
And by his guardian angel quite given up, — 
The miser, who with dust inanimate 
Held wedded intercourse. Ill guided wretch ! 
Thou mightst have seen him at the midnight hour, * 
When good men slept, and in light winged dreams 
Ascended up to God, — in wasteful hall, 
With vigilance and fasting worn to skin 
And bone, and wrapped in most debasing rags, — 
T^ou mightst have seen him bending o'er his heaps. 
And holding strange communion with his gold ; 
And as his thievish fancy seemed^o hear 
The night-man's foot approach, starting alarmed. 
And in his old, decrepit, withered hand. 
That palsy shook, grasping the yellow earth 
To make it sure. Of all God made upright. 
And in their nostrils breathed a living soul. 
Most fallen, most prone, most earthy, most debased; 
Of all that sold Eternity for Time, 
None bargained on so easy terms with Death. 
Illustrious fool ! nay, most inhuman wretch ! ^ 
He sat among his bags, and, with a look 
Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor 



BOOK III.' * 45 

' Away unalmBed, and midst abundance died, 
Sorest of evils ! died of utter want. 

Before this Shadow, in the vales of earth. 
Fools saw another glide, which seemed of more 
Intrinsic worth. Pleasure her name^ good name, 
Though ill applied. A thousand forms she took, 
A thousand garbs she wore ; .in every age 
And clime, changing, as in her votaries changed 
Desire ; but, inwardly, the same in all. 
Her most essential lineaments we trace ; 
Her general features everywhere alike. 

Of comely form she was, and fair of fiice ; 
And underneath her eyelids' sat a kind 
Of witching sorcery that nearer drew 
Whoever, with unguarded look, beheld ; 
A diesa of gaudy hue loosely attired 
Her loveliness ; her air and manner frank, 
And seeming free of all disguise ; her song 
Enchanting ; and her words, which sweetly dropped, 
As honey from the comb, most large of promise, 
Still prophesying days of new delight. 
And rapturous nights of undecaying joy ; 
And in her hand, where'er she went, she held 
A radiant cup that seemed of nectar full ; 
And by her side, danced fair, delusive Hope. 
The fool pursued, enamoured ; and the wise 
Experienced man, who reasoned much and thought. 
Was sometimes seen laying his wisdom down, 
And vying with the stripling in the chase. 

No wonder thou, for she was really &ir, 
Decked to the v6ry taste of flesh and blood, 
And many thought her sound within, and gay 
And healthy at the heart : but thought amiss. 
For she was full of all disease : her bones 
Were rotten ; Consumption licked her blood, and drank 



46 TH^ ib^RSE OF TIxME. 

Her marrow up ; herH>reath snielled mortally ; 
And in her bowels plague and fever lurked ; 
And in her very heart, and peins, and life, 
Corruption's worm gnawed greedily unseen. 

Many her haunts. Thou mightst have seen her now 
With Indolence, lolling on the mid-day couch, 
And whispering drowsy wcwds ; and now at dawn, 
Loudly and rough, joining the sylvan horn ; 
Or sauAtering in the park, and to the tal^ 
Of slander giving ear ; or sitting fierce. 
Rude, blasphemous, malicious, raving, mad, 
Where fortune to the fickle die was bound. 

But chief she loved the scene of deep debauch, 
Where revelry, and dance, and frantic song, 
Disturbed the sleep of honest men ; and where 
The drunkard sat, she entered in, well pleased. 
With eye brimful ^of wanton mirthfulness, 
And urged him still to fill another cup. 

And at the shadowy tw^nght, in the dark 
And gloomy night, I looked, and saw her come 
Abroad, arrayed in harlot's soft attire ; 
And walk without in every street, and lie 
In wait at every corner, full of guile : 
And as the unwary youth of simple heart, ' 
And void of understanding, passed, she caught 
And kissed him, and with lips of lying said, 
I have peace-offerings with me ; I have paid 
My vows this day ; and therefofe came I forth 
To meet thee, and to seek thee diligently, 
To seek thv face, and I have found thee here. 
My bed is decked with robes of tapestry, 
With carved work and sheets of linen fine ', 
Perfumed with aloes, myrrh, and cinnamon. 
Sweet are stolen waters ! pleasaiit is the bread 
In secret eaten ! the goodman is &om home. 



^ 



BOOK III. '• 47 

Come, let us take our fill of lore tfil mom * 

Awake ; let us delight ourselyes with loves. 

With much fair speech, she caused the youth to yield ', 

And forced- him with the flicttering of her tongue. • 

I looked, and saw him follow to her house, 

As goes tlie oz to slaughfer ; as the fool 

To the correction of the stocks' : or bird 

That hastes into the subtle fdwler's snare. 

And knows not, simple thing, 'tis for its life. ^ 

I saw him enter in, and heard the door 

Behind them shut ; and in the dark, still ni^ht. 

When God's unsleeping eye alone can see. 

He went to her adulterous bed. * At mom 

1 looked, and saw him not among the youths. 

I heard his father mourn, his mother weep. 

For none returned that went with her. The dead 

Were in her house, her guests in depths of bell. 

She wove the winding-sheet of souls, and laid 

Them in the urn of everlasting death. 

Such was the Shadow fools pursued on earth, 
Under the name of pleasure ; fair outside, 
Within corrupted, and corrupting still. 
Ruined and ruinous, her sure reward. 
Her total recompense, was still, as he, "^ 

The bard, recorder of Earth's Seasons, sung, 
*^ Vexation, disappointment, and remorse." 
Yet at her door the young and old, and some 
Who held high character among the wise. 
Together stood, and strove among themselves^ 
Who first should enter, and be ruined first. 

Strange competition of immortal souls ! ^ 
To sweat for death ! to strive for misery ! 
But think not Pleasure told her end was death. 
Even human folly then had paused at least, 
And given some signs of hesitation ; not 
Arrived so hot, and out of breath, ^it wo. 



48 THE COUBSE OF TIME. 

Though contradicted eYery day by fiusts 
That sophistry itself woold stumble o'er. 
And to the very teeth a liar proved, 
Ten4housand times, as if imconscious stilK ' 
Of inward blame, she stood and wared her hand, 
And pointed to her bower^ and said to all 

' Wl^o passed, Take yonder flowery path, my steps 
Attend ; I lead the smoothest way to heaven ; 
This \|forld receive as surety for the next t 
And many simple men, most simple, though 
Renowned for learning much, and wary sldll, 

, Believed, and turned aside, and were undone. 

Another leaf of finished Time we turn, 
And read of fame, terrestrial fame, which died, 
And rose not at the resurrection mom ; 
Not that by virtue earned, the true fenown. 
Begun on earth, and lasting in the skies, 
Worthy the lofty wish of seraphim, — 
The approbation of the Eye that sees 
The end from the beginning, sees from cause 
To most remote eflect. Of it we read 
In book of God's remembrance, in the book 
Of life, from which the quick and dead were judged ; 
The book that lies upon the Thr(»ie, and tells 
Of glorious acts by saints and angels done ', 
The record of the holy, just, and good. 

Of all the phantoms fleeting in the mist 
Of Time, though meagre all, and ghostly thin, 
Most unsubstantial, unessential shade 
Was earthly Fame. She was a voice alone. 
And dwelt upon the noisy tongues of men. 
She never thought, but gabbled ever on, 
Applauding most what least deserved applause. 
The motive, the result, was naught to her. 
The deed alone, though dyed in human gore, 
And steeped in widow's tears, if it stood out 



^J 



\. 



90OK III. 49 

To prominent display, she talked of much, 
And roared around it with a thousand tongues. 
As changed the wind her organ, %o she changed 
Perpetually ; and whom she praised to-day, 
Vexing his ear with acclamations loud, 
To-morrow blamed, and hissed him out of sight. 

Such was her nature, and her practice such. 
But, O ! her voice was sweet to mortal ears. 
And touched so pleasantly the strings of pride 
And vanity, which in the heart of man 
Were ever strung harmonious to her note, 
That many thought, to live without her song 
Was rather death than life. To live unknown, 
Unnoticed, unr^enowned ! to die unpraised, 
Unepitaphed ! to go down to the pit. 
And moulder into dust among vile worms. 
And leave no whispering of a name on earth !— 
Such thought was cold about the heart, and chilled 
The blood. Who could en'dure it .'' who could choose, 
Without a struggle, to be swept away 
From, all remembrance, and have part no more 
With living men ? Philosophy failed here. 
And self-approving pride. Hence it became 
The aim of most, and main pursuit, to win 
A name, to leave some vestige as they passed, 
That following ages might discern, they once 
Had been on earth, and acted something there. 

Many the roads the]^ took, the plans they tried. 
The man of science to the shade retired. 
And laid his head upon his hand, in mood 
Of awful thoughtfulness, and dived, and dived 
Again, deeper and deeper still, to sound 
The cause remote ; resolved, before he died. 
To make some grand discovery, by which 
He should be known to all posterity. 



50 THE COURSE Of TIME. 

And in the silent vigils of the night. 
When uninspired men reposed, the bard, 
Ghastly of countenance, and from bis eye 
Ofl streaming wild unearthly fire, sat up. 
And sent imagination forth, and searched 
The far and near, heaven, earth, and gloomy hell, 
For fiction new, for thought, unthought before ; 



^f»M B L'b>i JWW"h ho dipped his hasty pen. 
And by the glimmering lamp, or moonlight beam 
That through his lattice peeped, wrote fondly down, 
What seemed in truth imperishable song. 

And sometimes too, the reverend divine, 
In meditation deep of holy things 
And vanities of Time, heard Fame's sweet voice 
Approach his ear ; and hung another flower, 
Of earthly sort, about the sacred truth ; 
And ventured whiles to mix the bitter text, 
With relish suited to the sinner's taste. 

And oft-times tdb, the simple hind, who seemed 
Ambitionless, arrayed in hi^ble garb. 
While round him, spreading, fed his harmless flock, 
Sitting was seen, by some wild warbling brook. 
Carving his name upon his favourite staff; 
Or, in ill-favoured letters, tracing it 
Upon the aged thorn, or on the face 
Of some conspicuous, oft-frequented stone, 
With perseverii^, wondrous industry ; 
And hoping, as he toiled amain, and saw 
The characters take form, some other wight, 
Long after he was dead and in the grave. 
Should loiter there at noon, and read his name. 

In purple some, and some in rags, stood forth 
For reputation. Some displayed a limb 



BOOK III. ^^^ 

Well^fashioned ; some, of lowlier mind, a cane 
Of curious workmanship and marvellous twist. 
In strength some sought it, and in beatttj more. 
Long, long, the fair one laboured at the glass, 
And, being tired, called in auxiliar skill, 
To have her sails, before she went abroad, 
Full spread And nicely set, to catch the gale 
Of praise ; and much she caught, and much deserved. 
When outward loveliness was index fair 
Of purity within : but oft, alas ! 
The bloom was on the skin alone ; and when 
She saw, sad sight ! the roses on her cheek 
Wither, and heard the voice of Fame retire 
And die away, she heaved most piteous sighs. 
And wept most lamentable tears ; and whiles, 
In wild delirium, made rash attempt. 
Unholy mimicry of Nature's work ! , 
To re-create, with frail and mortal things, 
Her withered face. Attempt how fond and vain ! 
Her frame itself soon mouldered down to dust ; 
,' And, in the land of deep fbrgetfulness. 
Her beauty and her name were laid Inside "^ y^, . 
Eternal silence and the loathsome worm ; , 

into whose darknefes flattery ventured not ; 
Where none had ears to hear the voice of Fame. < 

' Many the roads they took, the plans they tried ; 

And awful oft the wickedness they wrought. 

To be observed, some scrambled up to thronef ,. 9 

And sat in vestures dripping wet with gore., J 

The warrior dipped his sword in blood, and 'wrote 

His name on lands and cities desolate?) 

The rich bought fields, and houses built, and raised 

The monumental piles up to the clouds. 

And called them by their names : and, strange to tell ! ' 

Rather than be unknown, and pass away 

Obscurely to the grave, some, small of soul. 

That else had perished unobserved, acquired 



52 ^ THE OdliUSE OF TIME. 

Considerable renoiml^y oatbs profane ; 
By jesting boldly trith all sacred things ; 
And uttering feaHessIy whate'er. occurred ; 
Wild, blasphemous, perditionable thoughts, 
That Satan in them moved ; by wiser men 
Suppressed, and quickly banished from the mind. 

Many the roads they took, the plans they tried. 
But all in vain. Who grasped at earthly fame, 
Grasped wind ; nay worse, a serpent grasped, that 

through 
His hand slid smoothly, and was gone ; but left 
A stjng behind which wrought him endless pain. 
For efl her voice was old Abaddon's lure, 
By which he charmed the foolish soul to death. 

So happiness was sought in pleasure, gold, 
B«nown, by many sought. BvA should I sing 
Of all the trifling race, my time, thy faith 
Would fail, of things erectly organized, 
And having rational,, articulate voioe. 
And claiming outw|krd brotherhood wit^ man, 
Of him that laboured sorely, in his swelit 
Smoking afar, then hurried to the wine, ^ 

Deliberately resolving to be dutd ; 
Of him who taught the nrrenous bird to fly 
This way or that, thereby supremely blest ; 
Or rode m fury with the howling pack, 
Aflxonting |nuch the noble animal, 
He spurrecl into such company ; of him 
Who down into the bowels of the earth 
Descended deeply, to bring up. the wreck 
Of some old earthen ware, which having stowed, 
With every proper oare, he home returned 
O'er many a sea and many a league of land. 
Triumphantly to show the marvellous prize ; 
( And him that vexed his brain, and theories built 
Of gossamef^upon the brittle winds, 



-■*'*-^ - I ■IMWII— 



> ^ BOOK ifK ' 53 

Perplexed exceedingly why shells were foiind 
Upon the mountain tops, but wonderii^ not 
V Why shells were found at all, more wondrous still ! 
Of Jiim who strange Qjtijoyraeht took in tales 
Of fairy folk, and sleepless ghosts, and sounds 
Unearthly, whispering in the ear of night 
Disastrous things ; and him who still foretold 
Calamity which never came, and lived 
In terror all his days of comets rude, 
That should unmannerly and lawless drive 
Athwart the path of earth, and burn mankind y * 
As if the appointed |ieur of doom, by G«d 
Appointed, ere its time should come ! as if 
Too small the number of substantisl (Us, 
And real fears, to vex the sons. of men. 
These, had they not possessed immortal souls,, 
And been accountable, might have been passed 
With laughter, and forgot ; but, as it was, 
And is, their folly asks a serious tear. 

Keen was thQ search, axuit various, and wide, 
For happiness. Take one example more, 
So strange, that common fools looked on amazed ; 

' And wise and sober men together drew. 
And trembling stood ; aiid angels in the heavens 
Grew pale, and talked of vengeance- as at hand ; 
The sceptic's route, the unbeliever's, who, 
Despising reason, revelation, God, 
And kicking 'gainst the pricks of conscience, rushed 
, Deliriously upon the bossy shield 

. Of the Omnipotent ; and in his heart 
Purposed to deify the idol chance ; 
And laboured hard, — oh, labour wosse than naught ! — 
And toiled with dark and crooked reasoning, 
To make the fair and lovely earth, which dwelt 
In sight of Heaven, a cold and fatherless, 
Forsaken thing, that wandered on» forlorn, 

- Undestined, uncompassioned, unupbeld ; ^ 
5* 



I 



54 THE COURSE OF TIME.. " 

A vapour eddying in the whirl of chance, 

And soon to ^anisdi everiaatinglj. 
t He travailed sorely, and made many a tack, 
' 'His sails oft shifting, to arrive,*-^ead thought t—- 
' Arrive at utter nothingness.; and have 

Being no more, no feeling, memoryj 

JN^o lingering consciousness that e'er he was. 
\ V f Guilt's midnight wish ! last, most abhdtrred thot]ght \ 

Most desperate effort of eztremest, sin ! 

Others, pre-occopied, ne'er saw true Hppe : 

He, seeing, aimed to stab her to the heart, 

And with infernH chymistry to wrkig 

The last sweet drop froin sorrow's cup of gall ; 

To quench the onlj my that cheered the earth, 

^And leave mankind in night which had po star. 

Others the streams of Pleasure troubled ; h^ 
,Toil«d much to dry her very fountain head. 

Unpardonable man ! sold under sin ! 
■ He was the devil's pioneer, who cut 

The fences down of Virtue, sapped her walls, 
I And opened a smooth and easy way to death. 

Traitor to all existence, to all life ! 

Soul-suicide ! determined ^^e of being ! 

Intended murderer of God, Most High ! 

Strange road, most strange ! t6 seek for happiness ! 

Hell's mad^honses ar« full of such, too fierce, 

Too furiously insane, and desperate. 

To rage unboun^ 'mong evil spirits damned. 

Fertile was earth in many things, not least 
In fools,"who mefoy both and judgment scorned, 
Scorned love, experience scorned, and onward rushed 
To swift destruction, giving all reproof. 
And all instruction, to the winds ; and much 
Of both they had, and much despised of both. 

Wisdom took up her harp, and stood in place 
Of frequentk^oncoufse, stood in every gate, 



,v 



BOOK III. 55 

By every way, and walked in every street ; 
And, fifliijg ap her voice, proclaimed : " Be wise, 
Ye fiiols ! lam of an underst^ding heart ', 
Forsake the wicked, come not near his house, 
Pass by, wake haste, d^art and turn away. 
Me follow, me, whose ways are pleasantness. 
Whose paths are peace, whose end is perfect joy**' * 
ThA Seaeons came and went, and went and came, 
To teach nten gratitude ; and as thq^]^ passed, 
Gave warning of the lapfte of Time, that else 
Sad stolen unheeded by. The gentle Flowers 
Retired, and, stooping o'er- the wildernei»» 
Talked of humility, and peace, and love. 
The Dews came down unseen at evening-tide, 
And silently their bounties shed, to teach 
Mankind unostentatious charity. 
With arm \m 91m the forest rose o^ high. 
And lesson g^ve of brotherly regard. 
And, OB thcrugged mountain-brow exposed, 
Boaring tho bkist alone, the ancient oak 
Stood, lifting hi^ his mighty arm, aad still 
To courage in distress exhorted loud. 
"^Th^ floeks,/th^h6rdd) the thirds j th^ sttdams^ the^breeze, 
li^ttWed the heiart to molodir and I6ve. . 
Mercy stood in the cloud, with eye that w^pt , 
Essential love ; and, fh>m her glearious b<|W, 
Bending to kiss the earth in tokeq, of peaoe. 
With her own lips, her gracfoos lips, which God ^ 
Of sweetest accent made, sho whispered still. 
She wispered to Revenge, Forgive, ibrgiv©. 
The Sun, rejoicing round the earib, announced 
Daily the wisdom, power, and love of God. 
The Moon awoke, and from her nuuden face, 
Shedding her cloudy locks, looked meekly forth, 
And with her virgin Stars w«&ed in tlie heavens, 
Walked nightly there, conversing a^ she wtdked, 
Of purity, and holiness, and God. 






,.-..■ .. U.. 



1 



56 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Daj uttered speech to day, «nd nifrfat to night 
Taught knowledge. SileHce had a tongue ; the grave, 

' The darkness, and the lonely, waste, had each 
A tongue, that ever said, Man ! i^iink of God ! ^ 
Think gf thyself! think of eternity ! 

. Fetf God, the thunders said. Fear God, the waves. 
Fear God, the lightning of the storm replied. 

' Fear God, deep loudly answered back to deep : 
And, in the temples of the Holy One, 
Me8aiah*« messengers, the faithful ibw. 
Faithful 'mong many false, the Bible opened. 
And cried. Repent ! repent ye sons of men ! 
Believe, be saved ; and reasoned awfully 
Of temperance, righteousness, and judgment soon 
To come, of ever-during life and death : 
And chosen bards from age to age awoke 
The sacred lyre, and full on Folly's ear, 

"Numbers of righteous indignation poured : 
And God, omnipotent, when mercy failed. 
Made bare his holy, arm, and with the stroke 
Of vengeance smote j the fountains of the deep 
Broke up, heaven's windows opened, and sent on men 
A flood of Wrath, senf plague and &mine forth ; 
With earthquake rocked the world beneath, with storms 
Above laid' cities waste, and turned fat lands 
To barrenness, and with the sword of war 
In fury marched, and' gave them blood to drink. 
Angels remonstrated, Mercy beseeched. 
Heaven smiled and firowned, Hell groaned. Time fled. 
Death' shook 

^ His dart, and threatened to n^^ke repentance vain,— • 
incredible assertion ! men rushed on 
Determinedly to ruin ; shut their ears, 
Their eyes, to all advice, to all reproof; 

^ O'er mercy and o'er judgment, downwurd rushed 
To misery ; and,— most incredible 
Of all ! — ^to misery rushed along the way 
Of disappointment and remorse, where still 



BOOK III. 57 

At every step, adders, in pleajyore's form, 
Staling mortal^ ; and Joys, — ^whose bloonVjr cheeks 
Seemed glowing high with immortality, 
Whose bosoms prophesied superfluous bliss, — 
While ill the arms received, and locked in close 
And riotous embrace, turned pale, and cold. 
And died, and smelled of putrefaction rank ', 
Turned, in. the very moment of delight, 
A loathsome, heavy corpse, that with the clear 
And hollow eyes of death, staxed horribly. 

All tribes, ail generations of tho earth, 
Thus waatonly to ruin drove alike. 
We heard mdeed of golden and silver days, 
And of primeval innocence unstained : 
A pagan (ale ! but by baptized bards, 
Philosophers, and statesmen, who were still 
Held wise and cunning men, talked of so muchji 
That mest beUeved it so, and Asked not why. 

"The pair, the family first made, were ill ; 
And for their great ]j^culiar sin, incurred 
The Corse, and left it due tt all their race; 
And bold example gave of every crime. 
Hate, murder, unbeKef, reproach, revenge. 
A time, 'tis true, there came, of which thou apon 
Shalt hear, the Sabbath Day, thtf Jubilee 
Of earth, when righteobsttess and peace prevailed. 
This time except, who writes the history . 
Of men, and writes it ^rue, must write the^ bad ; 
Who reads, must read of violence and blood. 
The man, who could the story of one day 
Peruse, the wrongs, oppressions, cruelties, 
Deceits, and perjuries, and vanities. 
Rewarded worthlessness, rejected worth, 
Assassinations, robberies, thefts, and wars, 
Disastrous accidents, life thrown away. 



58 THE COtlRSE OF TIME. 

Diyinity insulted, Heaven despised, 
Religion scorned, — and not been sick at night, 
And sad, had gathered greater store of mirth, 
Than ever wise man in the world could find. 

One cause of folly, one especial cause, 
Was this : Few knew what wisdom was, though well 
Defined in God*s own words, .and printed large. 
On heaven and earth in characters of light, 
And sounded in the ear by every wind. ^ 

Wisdom is humble, said the voice of -God. 
*Tis proud, the world replied. Wisdom, said God, 
Forgives, forbears, and suffers, not for fear 
Of man, but God. Wisdom revenges, said 
The world, is quick and deadly of resentment, 
Thrusts at'the very shadow of affnmt, 
And hastes, by death, to wipe its honour clean. 
Wisdom, said God, loves enemies, entreats, 
Solicits, begs for peace. WietSom, replied 
The world, hates enemies, will not ask peace, 
ConditicHis spurns, and triumphs in their fall. 
Wisdom mistrusts itself, and leans on Heaven, 
Said God. It trusts and leans upon itself, 
The world re^^lied. Wisdom retires,' said God, 
And counts it bravery to bear reproach, 
And shame, and lowly poverty, upright ; 
And weeps with all who have 'just cause to weep. 
Wisdom, replied the world, struts forth to gaze. 
Treads the broad stage of life with clamorous foot. 
Attracts all praises, counts it bravery 
Alone to wield the sword, and rush on death ; 
And never weeps, but for its ow;n disgrace. 
Wisdom, said God, is highest, when it stoops 
Lowest before the Holy Throne ; throws down 
Its crown, abased ; forgets itself, admires. 
And breaAes adoring praise. There Wisdom stoops, 



BOOK III. 59 

Indeed, the world replied, there stoops, because 
It must, but stodps with dignity ; and thinks 
And meditates the while of inward worth. 

Thus did Almighty God, and thus the world. 
Wisdom define : and most the world believed. 
And boldly called the truth of God a lie. 
Hence, he that to the worldly wisdom shaped 
His character, became the favourite 
Of men, was honourable termed, a man 
Of spirit, noble, glorious, loily soul ! 
And as he crossed the earth in chase of ({reams, 
Received prodigious shouts of warm applause. 
Hence, who to godly wisdom framed his life. 
Was counted mean, and spiritless, and vile ; 
And as he walked obscurely in the path 
Which led to heaven, fools hissed with serpent tongue. 
And ponred contempt upon Jiis holy head. 
And poured contempt on all who praised his name. 

But false as this account of wisdom was. 
The world's I mean, it was its best, the creed 
Of sober, grave, and philovophic men. 
With much research and cogitation framed. 
Of men, who, with the vulgar scorned to sit. 

The popular belief sosmed rather worse. 
When heard replying to the voice ortruth. 

« 

The wise man, said the Bible, walker with God ; 
Surveys, far on, the endless line of life ; 
Values his soul, thinks of eternity. 
Both worlds considers, and provides for both ; 
With reason's eye his passions guards ; abstains 
From evil ; lives on hope, on hope, the fruit 
Of faith ; looks upward, purifies his soul. 
Expands his wings, and mounts into the sky ; 



60 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

• 

Passes the sun, and gains his father's ^ouse, 
And drinks with angels from the fount of bliss. 

The multitude aloud replied, — ^replied 
By practice, for they were not bookish men, 
Nor apt to form their principles in words,-— 
The wise man, first of all, eradicates. 
As much as possible, from out his mind, 
All thought of death, God, and eternity ; 
Admires the world, and thinks of Time alone y 
Avoids the Bible, all reproof avoids ; 
Rocks Conscieftce, if he can, asleep ; puts out 
The eye of Reason, prisons, tortures, binds, 
And makes her thus, by violence and force, 
Give wicked evidence against herself; 
Lets passion loose, the substance leaves, pursues 
The shadow vehemently, but ne'er o'ertakes j 
Puts by the cup of holiness and joy; 
And drinks, carouses deeply, in the bowl 
Of death ; grovels in dust, pollutes, destroys, 
His soul ; is miserable to acquire 
More misery ; deceives to be deceived ; 
Strives, labours, to the last, to shun the truth ; 
Strives, labours, to the last, to damn himself; 
Turns desperate, shudders, groans, blasphemes, and dies. 
And sinks — where could he else ? — ^to endless wo ; 
And drinks the iffaie of God's eternal wrath. 

The learned thus, and thus the unlearned world, 
Wisdom defined. In sound they disagreed ; 
In substance, in effect, in end, the same ; 
And equally to God and truth opposed, 
Opposed as darkness to the light of heaven. 
Yet were there some, that seemed well-meaning men, 
Who systems planned, expressed in supple words, 
Which praised the man as wisest, that in one 
United both ; pleased God, and pleased the world; 



•«p^ 



BOOK III, 61 

And with the si^t, and with the sinner, had, 
Changing his garb, unseen, a good report. 
And many thought their definition best j 
And in th&ix wisdom grew exceeding wise. 

Union abhorred ! dissimulation vain ! 
Could Holiness embrace the harlot Sin .'* 
Could life wed death ? Could God with Mammon 

dwell' ? • • 

Oh, foolish men ! oh, men for ever lost ! 
In i^ite of mercy lost, in spite of wrath ! 
In spite of Disappointment and Remorse, 
Which made the way to ruin, rdinous ^ 

Hear what they, were : The progeny of Sin, 
Alike, and ofl combined ; but differing much 
In mode of giving pain. As felt the gross. 
Material part, when in the furnace cast. 
So felt the soul, the- victim of Remorse. 
It was a fire which on the verge of God's 
Commandments burned, and on the vitals fed 
Of all who passed.' Who passed, there met Remorse ; 
A violent fever seized his soul ; the heavens 
Above, the earth beneath, seemed glowing brass. 
Heated seven times ; he heard dread voices speak, 
And mutter horrid prophecies of pain, 
Severer and severer yet to come ; 
And as he writhed and quivered, scorched within, 
The Fury round his torrid temples flapped 
Her fiery wings, and breathed upon his lips 
And parched tongue the withered blasts of hell. 
It was the suffering begun, thou sawst 
In symbol of the Worm that never dies. ' 

The other. Disappointment, rather seemed 
Negation of delight. It was a thing 
Sluggish and torpid, tending towards death. 
Its breath was cold, and made the sportive blood, 
6 



^ 



62 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Stagnant, and dull, and heavy, round the wheels 

Of life. The roots of that whereon iHlew, 

Decayed, and with the genial soil no more 

Held sympathy ; the leaves, the 4>ranches drooped, 

And mouldered slowly down to formless dust ; 

Not tossed and driven by violence of winds^ 

But withering where they spfnng, and rotting there. j 

Long disappointed, disappointed still,' • " • 

The hopeless mtn, hopeless in his main wish, 

As if returning back to nothing, felt ; ' 

In strange vacuity of being hung, 

And rolled and rolled his eye on emptiness. 

That seemed' to grow ^ore empty every hour. 

One of this mood I do remembd'r well. • 

We name him not, — ^what nowiare earthly names ? — 
In humble dwelling born, retired, remote ; 
In rural quietude, 'mong hills, and streatns, ^ 

And melancholy deserts, where the Sun * 

Saw, as he passed, a shepherd only, here 
And there, watching his little flock, or heard 
The ploughman talking to his steers ', his hopes. 
His morning hopes, awoke before him, smiling, 
Among the dews and holy mountain airs ; 
And fancy coloured them with every hue 
Of heavenly loveliness. But soon his dreams 
Of childhood fled away, those rainbow dreams. 
So innocent and fair, that withered Age, 
Even at the grave, cleared up his dusty eye, 
And, passing all between, looked fondly back 
To see them once again, ere he departed : • 
These fled away, and anxious thought, that wished 
To go, yet whither knew not well to go. 
Possessed his soul, and held it still awhile. 
He listened, and heard from far the voice of fame. 
Heard and was charmed ; and deep and sudden vow 
Of resolution, nuide to be renowned ; 
And deeper vowed again to keep hie vow. 



.i 



BOOK III. 63 

His parents saw^Rs parents, whom God made 

Of kindest heart, saw, and indulged his hope. 

The ancient page he turned, read much, thought much, 

And with, old bards of honourable name 

Measured lus soul seiwrelj ; and looked up 

To fame, ambitious of no second place. 

Hope |;rew from inward fidth, and promised fair. 

And out before him opened many a path 

Ascending, wher^ the laurel lyghest waved 

Her bnuich of endless green. He stood admiring. 

But stood, admired, i^t long. The harp he seized. 

The harp he loved, loved better t|ian his life. 

The harp which uttered deepest notes, and held 

The«ear of thought^a captive to its song. 

Hejsearched and meditated much, and whiles, 

With rapturous hand, in secret, touched the lyre, 

Aiming at glorious strains ; and searched again 

For theme deserving of immortal verse ; , 

Chose now, and now refused, unsatisfied ; 

Pleased, then displeased, and hesitating still. 

Thus stood his mind, when round him came a cloud, 
Slowly and heavily it came, a cloud 
Of ills, we mention not. Enough to say, 
'Twas cold, and dead, impenetrable gloom. 
He saw its dark approach, and saw his hopes, 
One after oi^e, put out, as nearer still 
It drew his soul ; but fainted sot at first. 
Fainted not soon. He knew the lot of man 
Was trouble, and prepared to bear the worst ; 
Endure whatever should come, without a sigh 
Endure, and drink, even to the very dregs. 
The bitterest cup that Time could measure out ; 
And, having done, look up, and ask for more. 

He called philosophy, and with his heart 
Reasoned. He called religion too, but called 
Reluctantly, and therefore was not heard. 



• 64 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Asliamed to be overmatched bj earthly^)es, 

He sought, and sought, with eye that dimmed apace, 

To find some avenue to light, some place 

On which to rest a hope ; but sought in vain. 

Darker and darker still the darkness grew. 

At length he sunk, and Disappointment stood 

, His only comforter, and mournfully 
Told all was passed, 'His interest in life. 
In being, ceased : and now he seemed to feel, 
And shuddered as he felt, his powers of mind 
Decaying in the spring-tima of his day. 
The vigorous, weak became, the clear, obscure. 
Memory gave up her charge, Decision reeled, * 

And from her flight^ Fancy returned, returned 

. Because she found no nourishment abroad. '^ 

,'Jrhe blue heavens withered, and the moon, and sun, * 
And all the stars, ai^d the green earth, and morn 
And evening, withered ; and the eyes, and smiles, 
And faces, of all men and women, withered ; 
Withered to him ; and all the universe, - 
Like something which had been, appeared ; but now 

. W^ dead and mouldering fast away. He tried 

' No more to hope, wished to forget his vow, 
Wished to forget his harp ; then ceased to 'wish. 
That was his last. Enjoyment now was done? 
He had no hope, no wish, and scarce a fear. 
Of being sensible, and sensible 
Of loss, he as some atom seemed, which God 
Had made superfluously, and needed not 
To build creation with ; but back again 
To nothing threw, and left it in the void, 
With everlasting sense that once it was. 

Oh ! who can tell what days, what nights, he spent, 

- Of, tidele88,^waveless,^sailless,f shoreless, wo! , 

And who can tell how many, glorious once, 
To others and themselves of promise full, 
Conducted to this pass of human thought, 



BOOKJII. 65 

This wilderness of intellectual death, 

Wasted and pined, and vanished from the earth, 

Leaving nd vestige of memorial there ! 

.• * 

It was not so with him. ' When thus he lay, 
Forlorn of heart, Withered and desolate, 
As leaf of Autumn, which the wolfish winds, 
Selecting from its falling sisters, chase, 
Far from its native grove, to lifelem wastes. 
And leave it there alone, to be forgotten 
Eternally, God passed in mercy by^ — ''* 

His praise be ever neii^ ! — and on him breathed, 
And bade him live, and put into his hands 
A h»ly harp, into his lips % song, 
That rolled its numbeiB down the tide of Time : 
Ambitious now but little, to be praised 
Of men alone ; ambitious most, to be 
Approved of God, the Judgo of aU ; and have 
His name recorded in the book of life. 

Such things were Disappointment and Remorse. 
And oft united both, as firiends severe. 
To teach men wisdom ; but the fool, untaught, 
Was foolish stiU. His ear he stopped, his eyes 
He shut, and blindly, deafly obstinate. 
Forced desperately his way from wo to wo. 

One place, one only place, there was on earth, 
Where no man e'er was fool, however mad. 
''Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die." 
Ah ! *twas a truth most true ; and sung in Time, 
And to the sons of men, by one well known 
On earth for lofty verse and lofty sense. 
Much hast thou seen, fair youth, much heard ; but thou 
Hast never seen a death-bed, never heard 
A dying groan. Men saw it often. 'Twas sad, 
To all most sorrowful and sad ; to guilt, 
'Twas anguish, terror, darkness, without bow. 

6* - ~ .. 



■>^ JW 1^ I ■ 



66 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

But, oh ! it had a most c<uivin6ing tongue, 
A potent oratory, that secured * 

Most mute attention ; and it spoke the truth 
So boldly, plainly, perfectly distinct. 
That none the meaning could inistake, or doubt ; 
And had wiUial a disenchanting power, 
A most onmipotent and wondrous ppwer, 
Which in a moment broke, for ever broke, 
And utterly dissolved, the charms, and spells, 
And cunning sorceries of ea^h and heU. 
Ajiijhnff it spoke to him who ghastly lay. 
And struggled for another breath : Earth's cup 
Is poisoned ; her renown, most inmmous ; 
Her gold, seem as it may, is really dust ; 
Her titles, slanderous names ;• her praise, reproach ; 
'Her strength, an idiot's boast ; h^ wisdom, blind ; 
Her gain, eternal loss ; her hope, a dream ; 
Her love, her friendship, enmity^with God ; 
Her promises, a lie ; her smile, a harlot's ; 
Her beauty, paint, and rotten within ; her pleasures. 
Deadly assassins masked ; her laughter, grief; 
Her breasts, the sting of Death ; her total sum. 
Her all, most utter vanity ; and all 
Her lovers mad, insane most grievously, 
fAnd most insane because they know it not. 

Thus did the mighty reasoner, Death, declare. 
And volumes more ; and in one word confirmed 
The Bible whole. Eternity is all. 
But few spectators, few bpUeved, of those 
Who staid behind. Thd wisest, best of men, 
Believed not to the letter full ; but turned, 
And on the world looked forth, as if they thought 
The well-trimmed hypocrite had something still 
Of inward worth. The dying man alone, 
Gave faithful audience, and the words of Death, 
To the last jot, believed, believed and felt ; 
But oft, alas ! believed and felt too late. 



BOOK III. ' 67 

And haxl Earth, then, no jojs, no native'sweets. 
No happiness, that one, who spoke the truth, 
Might caU her own ? She had ; true ^native sweets. 
Indigenous delights, which ^p the tree 
Of holiness, embracing as they grew. 
Ascended, and bore fruit of heavenly taste ; 
In pleasant memory held, and talked of oft, 
^ By yonder Saints, who walk the golden streets 
Of New Jerusalem, and compass round 
The Throne, with nearest vision blessed. Of these, 
Hereafter, thou shalt hear, delighted hear ; — 
One page of beauty in the life of man. 



f ■•.V ■ 



.^^ 



«^ 



THE 



COURSE OF TIME 



BOOK IV. 



The world had much of strange and wonderful, 
In paasion much, in action, reason, will. 
And much in Providence, which still retired 
From human eye, and led Philosophy, 
That ill her ignorance liked to own, through dark 
And dangerous paths of speculation wild. 
Some striking features, as we pass, we mark. 
In order such as memory suggests. 

One passion prominent appears, the lust 
Of power, which oft-times took the fiiirer name 
Of liherty, and hung the popular flag 
Of freedom out. Many, indeed, its names. 
When on the throne it sat, and round the neck 
Of millions riveted its iron chain. 
And on the shoulders of the people laid 
Burdens unmerciful, it title took 
Of tyranny, oppression, despotism ; 
^'And every tongue was weary cursing it) 
"When in the multitude it gathered strength, 
And, like an ocean bursting firom its bounds, 
Long beat in vain, went forth resistlessly. 
It bore the stamp and designation, then, 
Of popular fury, anarchy, rebellion ; 



70 . TtfB COURSE OF TIME. 

And honest men bewailed all order void ; 

All laws annulled ; all pfoperty destroyed ; 

The venerable, murdered in th# streets ; 

The wise, despised ; streams, red with Jiuman blood ; 

Harvests, beneath the^rantic foot trod down^ 

Lands, desolate : and fiunine «t the door. 

' These are ft part ; but other names it had,* 

Innomerotts as the shapes and robes it wore.. 

But under every name, In nature still 

Invariably the same, and always bad. 

We own, indeed, that oft against itself 

It fought, and sceptre both and people gave 

An equal aid ; as long exemplified 

In Albion's isle, Albio^ queen of the seas ; 

And in the struggle, something like a kind 

Of civil liberty grew up, the*best 

Of mere terrestrial root ', but, sickly, too. 

And living only, strange to tell ! in strife 

Of Actions equally contending ; dead, 

That very moment dead, that one prevailed. 

Conflicting cruelly against itself. 
By its own hand it fell ; part slaying part. 
And men who noticed not the suicide, 
Stood wondering much, why earth from age to age, 
W^ fftiU enslaved } and erring causes gave. 

This was earth's liberty, its nature this, 
However named, in whomsoever found, — 
And found it was in all of woman born, — 
Each man to make all subject to his will } 
To make them do, undo, eat, drink, stand, move, 
Talk, think, and feel, exactly as he chose. 
Hence the eternal strife of brotherhoods. 
Of individually, families, commonwealths. 
The root from which it grew was pride ; bad root. 
And bad the fruit it bore. Then wonder not, 



BOOK IV. 71 

That long the nations from it richly rA|>ed » 

Oppression, slavery, tyranny, and .war j 

Confusion, desolation, trouble, shame. 

And, marvellous though it seem, this monster, when 

It took the name of slavqjry, as oft 

It did, had advocates to plead its cause ; 

Beings that- walked erecf, and sp<^e like men ; 

Of Christian parentagie descended, too, ^ * 

And dipped in the baptismal font, as. sign 

Of dedication to the Prince who bowed • 

To death, t*set the sin-bound prisoner free. 

Unchristian thought ! on what pretence floe'er 
Of right, inherited, or else acquired ', 
Of loss, or profit, or what plea you nam0f 
To buy and sell, to barter, whip, and hold 
In chains, a being of celestial make ; 
Of kindred form, of kindred faculties, 
Of kindred feelings, passions, thoughts, desires; 
Born free, and heir of an immortal hope $ 
Thought villanous, absurd, detestable ! 
Unworthy to be harboured in a fiend ! 
And only overreached in wickedness 
By*that, birth, too, of earthly liberty, 
Which aimed to make a reasonable man 
By legislation think, and by the sword 
Believe. This was that liberty renowned, 
Those equal rights of Greece and Rome, where men, 
All, but a few, were bought, and sold, and scourged. 
And killed, as interest or caprice enjoined ; 
In after times talked of, written of, so much, 
That most, by soimd and custom led away, !f0l 

Believed the essence answered to the name. . '■ 

Historians on this theme were long and warm. 
Statesmen, drunk with the fumes of vain debate. 
In lofty swelling phrase, called it perfection, 
Philosophers its rise, advance, and fidl, 
Traced carefully : and poets kindled still, 



72 - THE COURSE OP TIME. 






As memory brought it up ; their lips were touched 
With firo, and uttered words that men adored* 
Even he, true bard of Zion, holy roan I 
To whonv the B^ible taught this precious verse, 
" He is the freeman whom the truth makes free," 
By fashion, though by fashien little swayed, 
Scarb^kept his harp from pagan freedom's praise. 

• The captive propket, whom Jehovah gave 
The future years, described it best, when Jie 
Beheld it rise ia vision of thS night : 
A dreadful beast, and terrible, and strong 
Exceedingly, with mighty iron teeth ", 
And, lo, it brake in pieces, and devoured. 
And stamped the residue beneath its feet ! 

True liberty was Christian, sanctified, 
Baptized, and found in Christian hearts alone ; 
First-bom of Virtue, daughter of the skies, 
Nursling of truth divine, sister of all 
The graces, meekness, holiness, and love ; 
Giving to God, and man, and all below, 
That sjrmptom showed of sensible existence, 
Their due, unasked ; fear to whom fear was due ; 
To all, respect, benevolence, and love : 
Companion of religion, where she came. 
There freedom came ; where dwelt, there freedom dwelt j 
Ruled where she ruled, expired where she expired. 

'^ He was the freeman whom the truth made free,*' 
Who, first of all, the bands of Satan broke ; 
Who broke the bands of sin ; and for his soul, 
In spite of fools, consulted seriously; 
In spite pf fashion, persevered in good ; 
In i^ite of wealth or poverty, upright ', 
Who did as reason, not as fancy, bade ; 
Who heard temptation sing, and yet turned not 
Aside ; saw Sin bedec]i^ her flowery bed, 



.a^^kflkMii 



BOOK IV. * 73 

And yet would not go up ; felt at his heart 
The sword unsheathed, yet would not sell the truth ; 
Who, having power, had not the will to hurt ; 
Who blushed alike to be, or have a slave ; 
Who blushed at naught but sin, feared nau^t bat God ; 
I Who, finally, in strong integrity 
Of soul, 'midst want, or riches, or disgrace, * 

Uplifted, calmly sat, and heard the waves 
Of stormy folly breaking at iiis feet, 
Now shrill wiUi praise, now hoarse with foul reproadhi 
And both despised sincerely ; seeking this 
Alone, The approbation of his God, * 
Which still with conscience witnessed to his peace. 

This, this is freedom, such as angels use. 
And kindred to the liberty of God. 
First-born of Virtue, daughter of the skies ! 
The man, the state, in whom she ruled, was free ; 
All else were slaves of Satan, Sin, and Death. 

Already thou hast something heard of good 
And ill, of vice and virtue, perfect each ; 
Of those redeemed, or else abandoned quite ; 
And more shalt hear, when, at the judgment-day, 
The characters of mankind we review. 
Seems aught which thou hast Heard ast onishing i 
A greater wonder now thy audience asks ; 
Phenomena in all the universe, 
Of moral being most anomalous, 
Inexplicable most, and wonderful. 
I'll introduce thee to a single heart, 
A human heart. We enter not the wont, 
But one by God's renewing Spirit touched, 
A Christian heart, awaked from sleep of sin. 
What seest thott here } what markst ? Observe it well. 
Will, passion, reason, hopes, fears, joy, distress, 
Peace, turbulence, simplicity, deceit, 
Good, ill, corruption, immortality ; 
7 



74 . Trik eotss£ of temb. 



A temple of the Half (SmhI, aai jet 

Oft lodging &ii^; the dweflne-flBce oTaO 

The heavenly Tiztuee, chazitj and tiutk, - if 

HmniEftf , sad holmff , and love ; I 

And yet tMi r o M nwrn hamt of anger, fride, I 

Hatred, revenge, and paeHone fii«l with hHt ; 

Allied to hearen, yet parfeyi^ eft vitkhdl ; 

A ookBer listed in Mi iiiiali'e liand, 

Tet giving qoarter to Ahaddan's trou pe ; 

"With eegaphe drinking from the wdl of fifi^' 

And yet carooong in the cop qf death; 

An heir of heav^ and walkiqg thitherward, 

Tet ^— *'"»g faedL m covetoua eje on earth ; 

JEinblem of atzength, and weakneaa ; loving 

And now abhoning on ; indn^i^g now. 

And now repenting aoie ; rejoicing now, 

With joy nnapeakable, and loll of glory ; 

Now weq»ing l»tteily, and clothed in dnat ; 

A man willing to do, and doing not; 

Doing, and willing not ; emhraeing what 

He iiatea, what moot he loves abandoning ; 

Half Skint, and sinner half; half life, half death ; 

CommiTtore strange of heftven, and earth, and hell ! 



What seest thoo here ? what maikst? A battfe-fieU, 
Two banners qiread, two Areadfiil ftmits of war 
In shock of oppositioa fierce, engaged. 
Crod, angels, saw whole empixes rise in arms. 
Saw kings exalted, heard them tmnble down. 
And otheri raised,— and heeded not ; bat here 
God, angels, looked ; God, ang^ fooght ; and Hell, 
With all his legions, fijoi^t : here, error fimght 
With troth, with darkness light, and life with death; 
And here, not kingdoms, repntations^ worlds. 
Were won ; ^Ihe strife was fer eternity^ 
The victory was never-ending bliss, / 
The badge, a duplet from the tree of life. 



BOOK IV. ■ 75 

Wh3e thus, within, contending armies fltroTe, 
Without, the Christian had his troubles too. 
For, as bj God's unalterable laws, 
And ceremonial of the Heaven of Heavens, 
Virtue takes place of all, and worthiest deeds 
Sit highest at the feast of Miss; on earth*, 
The opposite was fiMhion'^mle polite. 
Virtue the lowest place at table *took. 
Or served, or was shut out ; the Christian still 
Was mocked, derided, persecuted, slain ; 
. And Slander, worse than mockery, or sword. 
Or death, Stood ni^tly by her horrid forge, 
And fid>rieated lies to stain his mune, 
And wound his peace ; but still he had a source 
Of happiness, that men could neither give 
Nor take away, ^he avenues^that led 
^o impiortality before him lay.'j 
He saw, with faith's far reaching eye, the fount 
Of life, his Father's house, his Saviour God^ 

/■ 
Encountered Umis with enemies, without, 
Within, like bark that meets opposing winds 
And floods, this way, now that, she steers athwart. 
Tossed by the wave, and driven by the storm ; 
But still the pilot/ancient at the helm, 
The harbour keeps in eye ; and after much 
Of danger passed, and many a prayer rude, 
( He runs her safely in 9 so was the man 
Of God beset, so tossed by adverse winds ', 
And so his eye upon the land of life 
He kept. Virtue grew dail)* stronger, sin 
Decayed ; his enemies, repulsed, retired ; 
Till, at the stature of a perfect man 
In Christ arrived, and with the Spirit filled, 
He gained the harbour of eteroal rest 



76 THE 'COURSE OF TIME. 

' But think not virtuey else than dwells in God 

Essentially, was perfect, without spot. 

Examine yonder suns. At distance seen, 

How bright they burn ! how gloriously they shine, 

Mantling the worlds around in beamy light ! 

But nearer viewed, we through, their lustre see 

Some dark behind ; so virtue ^as on earth, 
^ So is in heaven, and so shall always be. ^ 

Thol^gh-good it seem, immaculate, and fair 

Exceedingly, to saint or angel's gaze, 

The uncreated Eye, that searches all. 

Sees it imperfect ; sees, but blames not ; sees, 
, Well pleased, and best with those who deepest dive / 

Into them8elves,Wd know themselves the most ; 

Taught thence in humbler reverence to bow 

Before the Holy One ; and oHener view 

His excellence, that in them still may rise, 

And grow his likeness, growing evermore. 

Nor think that any, bom of Adam's race, 
In his own proper virtue, entered heaven. 
Once fallen from God and perfect holiness, 
No being, unassisted, e'er couldrise, 

Or sanctify the sin-polluted som; ys^ ^ ' . ^ ^ 

Oil was the trial made, but vainly made. ^- — -- 

So oft as men, in earth's best livery cla^ 
However fair, approached the gates of heaven, 
And stood presented to the eye of God, 
Their impious pride so ofi his soul abhorred. 
Vain hope ! in patch-work of terrestrial grain, 
To be received into the courts above ! 
As vain as towards yonder suns to soar. 
On wing of waxen pluma^, melting soon. 

Look round, and s^e those numbers infinite,, 
That stand before the Throne, and in their hands 
Palms waving high, as token of victory 



BOOK IV. 77 

For battles won. These are the sons of men 
Redeemed, the ransomed of the Lamb of God. 
AU these, and millions more of kindred blood, 
..Who now are out on messages of love, I 
^ ' All these, their virtue, beauty, ezcellencd, 
And joy, afe purchase of redeeming blood ; • 
Their glorj, bounty of redeeming lovof 

O Love divine ! (Harp, lift thy voice on high 
Shout, angels ! shout aloud, ye sons of men ! 
And burn, my heart, with the eternal flame !' , 

fmjjjrej be eloquent with endless pnSsjTl ' 

^^Love divine ! immeasurable Lovo ! 
Stooping irom heaven to earth, from earth to hell. 
Without beginning, endless, boundless Love ! 
Above all asking, giving far, to those 
Who naught deserved, who naught deserved but death ! 
Saving the vOest !/«aving me ! O Love 
Divine ! O Saviour God ! O Lamb, once slain ! 
At thought of thee, thy love, thy flowing blood. 
All thoughts decay ; all things'remenibered fade ; 
AU hopes return ; all actions done by men 
Or angels, disappear, absorbed and lost; 
All fly, as from the great white Throne which he, 
The prophet, saw, in vision wrapped, the heavens 
And earthy and sun, and moon, and starry host. 
Confounded, fled, and found a place no more. 

One glance of wonder, as we pass, desert^e 
The books of Time. Productive was the world 
Tn many things, but most in books. Like swarms 

^ Of locusts, which God sent to vex a land 
Rebellious long, admonished long in vain, 
Their numbers they poured annually on man. 
From heads conceiving still. Perpetual birth I 

' Thou wonderst how the world contained thom all ? 
Thy wonder stay. Like men, this was their doom : 
'^ That dust they were, and should to dust return." 



78 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Jbid oft their ftAhen, cfaildleBS and bereaved, 

SWept o'er their i^raves, when they themselves were 

■^ green. 

And on them fell, as fell on every age, 

As on their authors fell, oblivious Night, 
. Which o'er the past lay, darkling, heavy, stiU, 

Impenetrable, motionless, and sad, 

|Iaving his dismal, leaden plumage stirred 

By no remembrancer, to show the meh 

Who after came what was concealed beneath. 

The story- telling tribe, alone, outran 
All calculation &r, and left behind, 
Lagging, the swiftest numbers. Dreadful, even 
To fancy, was their never-ceasing birth ; 
And room had lacked, had not their life been short. 
Excepting some, their definition take 
Thou thus, expressed in gentle phrase, which leaves 
Some truth behind : A Novel was a book 
Three-volumed, and once read, and oft crammed ftiU 
Of poisonous error, blackening every page, 
And, oftener still, of trifling, second-hand 
Remark, and old, diseased, putrid thought. 
And, miserable incident, at war 
With nature,' with itself and truth at wttr ; 
Tet charming still the greedy reader on, 
Till done, he tried to recollect his thoughts, 
And nothing found, but dreaming emptiness. 
These, like ephemera, sprung, in a day. 
From lean and shallow-soiled brains of sand, • 
And in a day expired ; yet, while they lived. 
Tremendous oft-times was the popular roar ; 
And cries of— Live for ever ! struck the skies. 

. One kind alone remained, seen through the gloom 
And sullen shadow of the past : as lights- 
At intervals they shone, and brought the eye, 
That backward travelled, upward, till arrived 



BOOK IV. 79 

At him, who, on the hills of Midiao, sang 
The patient man of Uz; and from the lyre 
Of angels, learned the early dawn of Time. 
Not light and momentary laboiur these, 
But discipline and self^lenial long. 
And purpose stanch, and perseverance, asked. 
And energy that inspiration seemed. 
Composed of many thoughts, possessing each 
Innate and underived vitality ; 
Which, having fitly shaped, and well arranged 
In brotherly accord, they builded np ; * 

A stately superstructure, that, nor wind, 
Nor wave, nor shock of falling years, could move ; 
Majestic and indissolubly firm ; 
As ranks of veteran warriors in the field, 
Each by himself alone and singly sden, 
A tower of strength ; in massy phalanx knit, 
And in embattled squadron rushing on, 
(a sea of valour, dread, invincible. 

Books of this sort, or sacred, or pro&ne. 
Which virtue helped, were titled, not amiss, 
" The medicine of the mind :*' who read them, read 
Wisdom, and was refreshed ; and on his path 
Of pilgrimage, with healthier istep advanced. 

In mind, in matter, much was difficult 
To understand. But, what in deepest night 
Retired, inscrutable, mysterious, dark, — 
Was evil, God*s decrees, and deeds decreed. 
Responsible : why God, the just and good. 
Omnipotent and wise, should suffer sin 
To rise : why man was free, accountable ; 
Yet God foreseeing, overruling all. 
Where'er the eye could turn, whatever tract 
Of moral thought it took, by reason's torch, 
Or Scripture's led, before it still this mount 
Sprung up, importious, insurmountable, 



80 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Above the human stature rvang fiir ; 
Horizon of the mind, surrounding still 
The vision of the soul with clouds and gloom. 
Tet did they oft attempt to scale its sides, » 

And gain its top. Philosophy, to climb. 
With all her vigour, toiled from age to age j 
•Jpf9m age to age, Theology, with all 
Her vigour, toiled ; and vagrant Fancy toiled. 
Not weak and foolish only, but the wise, 
Patient, courageous, stout, sound-headed man. 
Of proper discipline, of excellent wind. 
And strong of intellectual limb, toiled-hard ; 
And oft above the reach of common eye 
Ascended far, and seemed well nigh the top ; 
But only seemed ; for still another top 
Above them rose, till, giddy grown and mad, 
With gazing at these dangerous heights of God, 
They tumbled down, and in their raving said. 
They o'er the summit saw. And some believed ; 
Believed a lie ; for never man on earth, ' 
That mountain crossed, or saw its farther side. 
Around it lay the wreck of many a Sage, 
Divine, Philosopher ; and many more 
Fell daily, undeterred by millions fallen ; 
Each wondering. why he failed to comprehend 
God, and with finite measure infinite. 
To pass it, was no doubt desirable ; 
And few of any intellectual size. 
That did not, some time in their day, attempt ; 
But all in vain ; for as the distant hill. 
Which on the right or left, the traveller's eye 
Bounds, seems advancing as he walks, and oft 
He looks, and looks, and thinks to pass ; but still 
It forward moves, and mocks his baffled sight, 
Till night descends, and wraps the scene in gloom : 
So did this moral height the vision mock ; 
So lifted up its dark and cloudy head. 
Before the eye, and met it evermore, » 



BOOK IV. 

And gome, provoked, accused the righteous God. 
Accused of what ? hear human boldness now ! 
Hear guilt, hear foilj, madness, all extreme ! 
Accused of what ? the dod of truth accused 
Of cruelty, injustice, wickedhess. 
Abundant sin! because a mortal man, 
A worm, at best, of small capacity. 
With scarce an atom of Jehovah's works 
Before him, and with scarce an hour to look 
Upon them, should presume to censure God, 
The infinite and uncreated God 1 
To sit, in judgment, on Himself, his works. 
His providence l- and try, accuse, condemn !. 
If there is aught, thought or to think, absurd. 
Irrational and wicked, this is more. 
This most ', the sin of devils, or of those ' 
To devils growing fiist. Wisd men and good 
Accused themselves, not God , and put their hands 
Upon their mouths, and in the dust adored. 

The Christian's faith had many mysteries too ', 
The uncreated holy Three in One, 
Divine incarnate, human in divine ; 
The inward call ; the Sanctifying DeW 
Coming ui^een, unseen departing thence ; 
Anew creating all, and yet not heard } 
Compelling, yet not felt. Mysterious these, 
Not that Jehovah to conceal them wished, 
Not that religion wished. The Christian faith. 
Unlike the timorous creeds of pagan priests, 
Was frank, stood forth to view, invited all, 
To prove, examine, search, investigate, 
And gave herself a light to see her by. 
Mysterious these, because too large for eye 
Of man, too long for human arm to mete. 

Go to yon mount, which on the north side stands 
Of New Jerusalem, and lifts its head 



81 



82 THE COURHE OP TIME. 

Serene in glory*bright| except the Ujll, 

The Sacred Hill of Grod, whpreoli no foot 

Must tread, highest of all creation's walks, 

And overlooking all, in proflp«ct*Tast, 

From out the ethereal blue, ^^hat cliff ascend, 

Gaze thence, around thee look ; naught now impedes 

Thy view ; yet still thy vision, purified 

And strong although it be, a boundary meets ; 

Or rather, thou wilt say, thy vision fails 

To gaze throughout illimitable space, 

And find the end of infinite : and so 

It was with all the mysteries of faith. 

God set them forth unveiled to the full gaze* 

Of man, and asked him to investigate } 

But Reason's eye, however purified. 

And on whs^tevdV tall and goodly height 

Of observation placed, to comprehend 

^hem luliy, sought in vain : in vain seeks still ', 

But wiser now ancHiumbler, she Mncludes, 

From what she knows already of his love 

All gracious, that she cannot understand ; 

And gives him credit, reverence, praise for all. 

Another feature in the ways of God^ 
That wondrous seemed, and made soiHq men complaib. 
Was the unequal gift of worldly things. 
Great was the difference, indeed, of men 
Externallyi from beggar to the prince. 
The highest take and lowest, and conceive 
The scale between. A noble of the earth. 
One of its great, in splendid mansion dwelt ; 
Was robed in silk and gold ; and every day 
Fared sumptuously ; was titled, honoured, served. 
Thousands his nod awaited, and his will 
For law received. Whole provinces his march 
Attended, and his chariot drew, or on 
Their shoulders bore alofl the precious man. 
Millions, abased, /ell prostrate at his feet : 



* ' * BeoK IV, 83 

' And millions more^thubdereq adoring praige. 
As far as eye could ^^aqh, hb called the land 
His own^ and aflded yearly to his fields. 

* Like tree that of the vsiSt took healthy root j^ 
He grew on eveiy side, ana towered on high. 
And over half s nation^ shadowing wide, 
He spread his ample' holies. "Air, darth, and sea*; 
Nature entire, the brute, and rational, * . 
To please him ministered, aitd viefl among 
Themselves, who most should his desires pr^ent, 
Watching the moving of his riving thoughts, 
Attentively, and hasting to fulfil. / 

His palace rose and kissed the gorgeous clouds. ^^ , 
Streams bent their inusic to his wiH, trees sprung^ 
The native waste put on luxuriant ro^es ; * 

And plains of happy cottages cast out ^ 

Their tenants, and became a hunting-fi^Jd^ 

> Before him bowed the distant isles, with^lhxits' 
And spices rare \ the South her treasures brought, 
The East and West s^nt ; and* the frigid Nf)rth' 
Came with her offering pf glossy Kirs. 
Musicians soothed his ear with airs.select : 
Beauty held out her arms ; and* every man 
Of cunning skill, and curious device. 
And endless multitudes of liveried wights, 
His pleasure waited with obsequioirs look. 
And when the wants of nature' were supplied, 
And common-place extravagances filled, 
Beyond their asking ; and caprice itself, * 
In all its zig-zag appetites, gorged full, 
The man new wants and new expenses planned. 
Nor planned alone. Wise, learned, sober men, 
Of cogitation deep, took up his case, 
And planned for him new modes of folly wild ; 
Contrived new wishes, wants, and wondrous meanB 
Of spending with despatch ; yet, after all. 
His fields extended still, his riches grew. 
And what seemed splendour infinite, increased. 



t f ^ 



^»m 



84 



THE COVR^E ^F TlM£« 




S«'lavishly upon a nn^le man ' . 

Did Providence his b5ui^tle» daily *^ow^. 

Turn no^ (lay ey^, and look WK^ovetty ^ 
Look on the lowbst of her n^ggei aonrnm 
We find him by thef^way/stftii^ in dust; 

• / He has n* breaid to^a£, no* txmgvLe to ask, 
Vl^iTo limbs )x) YuSky nb'home,mo house, 09 friend. 
Observe his goBlin cheek, ^s wretched ^e ; 
See how hfs hixiAf if:any band he Hb:^, . / 

Involuntary opens, arid trembles fbrth. 
As comes ^e j^ravellerls foot ; and hear his groan, 
Jlil long" and Ikmentable groan, announce 
The want Ihat gnaws withiv. Severely now 
The sfhi scorcliefl^and burns his o\A baJd head : 

* ThQ frost now glues' him to tb|ji. chilly earth. 
On him hailjuTi^n^ and tempest, ttidely beat ; 
' And«all,^e ixihds of heaven,' in jocular, mood. 
Sport with his withered rags; ihat, tossedabowt, 

. Display'his^ak-edness; to^a|»e'rs ityy 
And grievdusljf burjesque the human fi>rm. 
Observe him yet'iijj'ore narrowly.- His limbs, 
With palsy shaken, about him, blasted lie ; 
And all his flesh is fidl of putrid sores. 
And nbisome wounds, his bones, of racking pains. 
Strange vesture this for an immortal soul ! 
Strange retinue' to wait a lord of earth ! 
It seems as Nature, in dome surly mdod. 
After debate &nd musing long, had tried 
How vile and miserable thing her hand 
Could &bricate, then made this meagre nian : 
A sight so full of perfect misery. 
That passengers their faces turned away, 
And hasted to be gone ; flOBrifi^llRKl'''^ ' 

This great disparity of outward things 
Taught many lessons ; but this taught in chief. 



V '. 



^"-^ja-i^x 






. . B9^Kiv. . j. "" 85 

Though lear^d-by fei^ That Crod no value set,* 
That man shou^nqn6,^Qn.goodiS of worldly kind!* 
O^ transitory, ^{^i^ external thiiigs, • * 

Of migratory,' ev^r'ohaqgin^ sort : •. ^ 

And further ^taught, that iq the soul alone, * * . • 

The thin^ng, reascoiahle, willing soil, 
G^od placed the total'^xceUenea of man } " ^ 
^ And nut^nt himey^unore to seek it iheie. S 

But stranger still the distribittioa seeofied • "* . 
Of inteOect, thgugh femrer here complained ; 
Each with his share, upon the whole, conteni. 4 

'One man there was; an^ many such you might ^ 

Have met, who never had a dozen thoughts ^ 
in aU his life, an4 nenr chafed their course ; • 
But told them oNer, each in its customed {rface, ^ 

From mom till night, from youth to hoary age. 
Little above the ox that grazed tiie field, 
His reason rose ; so weak his memory, ^ 
The name his mother called hiip by, be scaree - 
Remembered i ajid kf^a judgment so untaught, 
That what at evening played along the swaSnp, 
Fantastic, clad in jrobe of fiery hue, 
He thought the devil in disguise,, and fled 
With quivering heart and winged footsteps home. 
The word philosophy be never heard, , 
/t)r science ; never heard of liberty, Z_^7 ^ > 
^^ecessityj or toa uf g i iiwitoilun ; "' ^ 

And never had an unbelieving doubt. 
Beyond his native vale he never looked ; 
But thought the visual line, that girt him round, 
The world's extreme ', and thought the silver Moon, 
That nightly o'er him led her virgin host, 
No broader than his father's shield. He lived, — 
Lived where his father lived, died where he died, . 
Lived happy, and died happy, and was saved. 
Be not surprised. He loved and served his God.' 

r 



^1 



^86 * . THE COURSE OP TIME. 

There wu another, large of understanding'y 
Of memory infinite, of judgment deep, 
^ Who knew all leaming,» and all science faiefw ^ " 
And all phenomena^ in heaven a^d eartli, 
Traced to their causes ; traced the labyrinths 
Qf thought, associMion, passion, wiH ; 
And aU i^e subtle, nice affinities 
Of matter-traced, its virtue^ motions, laws ; 
And ij^ost familiarly and deeply talked 
Of menta); moral, natural, divine. 
Leaving the earth at will, he soared to heaven, 
# And read the glorious visions of the skies ; ' 
Ai^ to the music of the rolling spheres 
lntelligeni|y listened ; and gazed far back 
Into tite awful depths of Deity ; 
^ Did all that mind assisted most could do ; 
And yet in misery lived, in misery died, 
Because he wanted holiness of heart: 

• 

A deeper lesson this to mortals taughf, 
And nearer cut the branches of theit pride : 
That not in 'mental, but in moral worth, 
God excellence placed ; and only to the good, 
To virtue, granted happiness, alone. 

Admire the goodness of Almighty God ! 
He riches gave, he intellectual strength, 
To few, and therefore none commands to be 
Or rich, or learned ; nor promises reward 
Of peace to these. On all. He moral worth 
Bestowed, and moral tribute asked firom all. 
And who that could not pay ? who bom so poor, 
Of intellect so mean, as not to know 
What seemed the best ; and, knowing, might not do ? 
As not to know what God and conscience bade, 
And what they bade not able to obey ? 
And he, who acted thus, fiilfilled the law 



. BOOK IV. 87 

Eternal, and its promise reaped of peace ; 
Found peace this way alone : who sought it p]Mf 
Sough^ mellow grapes beneath the icy Pole, 
Soitfht blooming roses on the cheek of death, 
> Sought substance in a world of fleeting shades. 

Tgl»"4iBywHMipie, to our purpo o o ^qaite* 
^ man of rank, and of capacious soul, 
Who riches had and fame, beyond desire, 
; An heir of flattery, to titles bom. 
And reputatiqn, and luxurious life : 
Yet, not content with ancestorial name, 
Or to be known because his fathers were, 
' He on this height hereditary stood, 
' And, gazing higher, purposed in his heart 
To take another step. Aboye him seemed, 
\_, Alone, the mount of song, the lofty seat 

Of canonized bards ; and thitherward, 
, By nature taught, and inward melody, 
In prime of youth, he bent his eagle eye. 
No cost was spared. What books he wbhed, he read : 
« What sage to hear, he heard ; what scenes to see. 
He saw. And first in rambling school-boy days 
Britannia's mountain-walks, and heath-girt lakes, 
And story-telling glens, and founts, and brooks, 
. And. maids, as dew-drops pure and fair, his soul 
'^. -'With grandeur filled, and melody, and love. 
'^.. ^. Then travel came, and took him where he wished. 
He cities saw, and courts, and princely pomp -, 
/And mused alone on ancient mountain-brows ;) 
And mused on battle-fieldd, where valour fought 
In other days ; and mused on ruins grey 
With years ; and drank from old and fabulous wells, 
And plucked the vine that first-bom prophets plucked ; 
And mused on famous tombs, and on the wave 
Of Ocean mused, and on the desert waste ; 
The heavens and earth of every country saw. 
Where'er the old inspiring Genii dwelt. 



\ 



88 THE COURSE 0$ TIME. 

Aught that could rouse, expand, refine the soul, 
Thither he j^nt, and meditated there. * 

He touched his harp, and nations heard, entranoad. 
As some vast river of unfailing source, ^ 

Rapid, exhaustless, deep, his numbers flowed, 
And opened new fountains in the human heart. 
Where Fancy halted, weary in her flight, 
In other men, his, fresh as morning, rose, 
And soared untrodden heights, and seemed at home. 
Where angels bashful looked. Others, though great. 
Beneath their argument seemed struggling whiles ; 
He from aSove descending stooped to touch 
The loftiest thought ; and proudly stooped, as though 
It scarce deserved his verse. With Nature's self 
He seemed an old acquaintance, free to jest 
At will with all her glorious majesty. 
He laid his hand upon 'Hhe Ocean's mane," 
And played familiar with his hoary locks ; 
6tood on the Alps, stood on the Apennines, 
And with the thunder talked, as friend to friend ;, 
And wove his garland of the lightning's wing, 
tn sportive twist, the lightning's, fiery wing. 
Which, as the footsteps of the dreadful God, 
Marching upon the storm in vengeance, seemed ; 
Then turned, and with the grasshopper, who sung 
His evening song beneath his feet, conversed. 
Suns, moons, and stars, and clouds, his sisters were ', 
Rocks, mountains, meteors, seas, and winds, and storms. 
His brothers, younger brothers, whom he scarce 
As equals deemed. All passions of all meuy- 
The wild and tame, the gentle and severe; 
All thoughts, all maxims, sacred and profane ; 
All creeds, all seasons. Time, Eternity ; 
All that was hated, and all that was dear ; 
All that was hoped, all that was feared, by man ; 
He tossed about, as tempest, withered leaves, 
Then, smiling, looked upon the wreck he made. 



^ 



BOOK IV. 89 

With terror now he froze the cowermg blood, 

And now dissolved the heart in tenderness ; 

Yet W9uld not tremble, would not weep himself; 

But back into his soul retired, alone, 
/Dark, sullen, proud, gazing contemptuously 
)^On hearts and passions prostrate at his feet. 

So Ocean from the plains his waves had late 

To desolation swept, retired in pride, 

Exulting in the glory of his might, 

And seemed to mock the ruin he had wrought. 

As some fietce comet of tremendous size, 
. To which the stars did reverence, as it passed. 
So he through learning and through fancy took 
His flight sublime, and on the lofliest top 
Of Fame's dread mountain sat ; not soiled and worn. 
As if he from the earth had laboured up ; 
But 93 some bird of heavenly plumage fair, 
He looked, which down from lugher regions came, 
And perched it there, to see what lay beneath. 

^ The nations gazed, and wondered much, and praised. 
^.Critics before him fell in humble plight. 

Confounded fell, and made debasing signs 

To catch his eye, and stretched, and swelled themselves 

To bursting nigh, to utter bulky words 

Of admiration vast : and many, too, 

Many that aimed to imitate his flight, 

With weaker wing, unearthly fluttering made, 

And gave abundant sport to after days. 

Great man ! the nations gazed, and wondered much, 
And praised ; and many called his evil good. 
Wits wrote in favour of his wickedness, 
And kings to do him honour took delight. 
Thus, full of titles, flatteiy^, honour, &ihe, 
Beyond desire, beyond ambition, full, 
He died. He died of what ? Of wretcfaedneas ;— 
8» ; 



V 



/ 



y 



•w— ^ 



90 ' •. ^llB COURSE OP -YIMIS. . 

■^ • 
. Drank every eap of "jey, heanl every trump • , 

Of GuDo^ 4rank early, deeply drank,- drank draughts- 

That common mSHons migliC have quenched ; then died 

Of thirst, because there was no more to drink 

His goddess, Nature, wooed, embraced^ enjoyed, 

Fell from his arms, abhorred^ his passions ^ed, 

Cl2iid,~alliuilireai7^ soUtarf Pri^V 
And aS his sympathies in being died. 
As some ill-guided bark, well bu^t and tall, 
WUch angry tides east out on desert shore, , 
And then, retiring', left it t&ere to rot 
And moulder in the winds and rains •f heaven ; 
So hd, cut from the sympathiee of Ufe, 
And cast ashore from pleasure's boisterous surge, 

V A wandering, weary, worn, and wretched thing, J 
Scorched, and desolate, and blasted soul, 
A gloomy wilderness of dying thouglrt, — 
Ilepined> and groaned, and withered from the earth. 
His groanings filled the land, his numbers filled ; 

' And yet he seemed ashamed to groan : — Poor man 1 — 
Ashamed to ask, and yet he needed help. 

Proof this, beyond all lingering of doubt, 
lliat not with natural or mental wealth, - 
Was God delighted, or hb peace secured ; 
That not in natural or mental wealth. 
Was human happiness or grandeur found. 
Attempt how monstrous, and how surely vain! 
With things of earthly sort, with aught but God, 
With aught but moral excellence, truth, and love. 
To satisfy and fill the immortal soul 1 
Attempt, vain inconceivably ! attempt, 
To satisfy the Ocean with a drop. 
To marry Immortality to Death, 
And with the unsubstantial Shade of Time, 
To fill the embrace of all Etenuty ! 



* » 



*A 



« a 



THB 



COURSE OF TIME. . 



BOOlf V. 



Praise God, ye servants of the Lord! praise God, 

Ye angels strong ! praise God, ye sons of men ! 

Praise him-who made, and who redeemed your souls ; 

Who gave you hope, reflection, reason, will ; 

Minds that can pierce eternity remote. 

And live at onco on future, present, past : 

Can speculate on systems yet to make. 

And back recoil on ancient days of Time, 

Of Time, soon past, soon lost among the shades 

Of buried years. . Not so the actions done 

In Time, the deeds of reasonable men. 

As if engraven with pen of iron grain, ' 

And laid in flinty rock, they stand, unchanged. 

Written on the various pages of the past : 

If good, in rosy characters of love ; 

If bad, in letters of vindictive fire. 

God may forgive, but cannot blot them out. 
Systems begin and end. Eternity 
Rolls on his endless years, and men, absolved 
By mercy from the consequence, forget 
The evil deed, and God fmputes it not ; 
But neither systems ending nor begun. 






<-* 



92 si V THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Eternity that rolls his endless years, 

Nor meift absolved, and sanctified, and washed 

By mercy A^m the consequence, nor yet 

Forgetflilne89, n<5r God imputing not, 

Can wash the guilty deed, once done, from out 

The faithful annals of the* past ; who reads^ 

And many read, there finds it, as it was, 

And is, and shall for ever be, — a dark, 

Unnatural, and loathly moral spot. 

The span of Time was shoi^, indeed ; and now 
Three-fourths were past, the last begun, and on 
Careering to its close, which soon we sing. 
But first our promise we redeem, to tell 
The joys of Time, her joys of native growth ; 
And briefly must, what longer tale deserves. 

Wake, dear remembrances ! wake, childhood-days ! 
Loves, firiendships, wake ! and wake, thou morn and even ' . 
Sun ! with thy orient locks, night, moon, and stars ! ^ 
And thou, celestial bow ! and all ye woods, 
/ And hUls, and vales, first trod in dawning life. 
And hours of holy musing, wake ! wake, earth I 
And, smiling to remembrance, come, and bring, 
For thou canst bring, meet argument for song 
Of heavenly harp, meet hearing for the ear 
Of heavenly auditor, exalted high. 

God gave much peace on earth, much holy joy ; 
Oped fountains of perennial spring, whence flowed 
Abundant happiness to all who wished 
To drink ; not perfect bliss ; — that dwells with us, 
Beneath the eyelids of the Eternal One, 
And sits at his right hand alone ; — ^but such 
As well deserved the name, abundant joy ; 
Pleasures, on which the memory of saints 
Of highest glory, still delights to dwell. 



\ 



M 



BOOK V. 93 

m 

It was, w« own^ subject of much debate, 
And worthy men. stood on opposing sides. 
Whether the cup of mortal life had more ^ 
Of sour or sweet. Vain question this, when aske'd 
In general terms, and worthy to b»left 
Unsolyed. If most was sour, the drinker, not 
The cup, we blame. Each in himself the means 
Possessed to turn the bitter sweet, the sweet 
To bitter. Hence, from out the self-same fount, 
One nectar drank, another draughts of gall. 
Hence, from the self-same quarter of the sky, 

. One saw ten thousand angels look and smile ; 
Another saw as many demons frown. 
One discord heard, where harmony inclined 
Another's ear^^ The sweet was in the taste^ 
The beauty in the eye, and in the ear 

^^e melody ; and in the man, — ^for God 
Necessity of sinning laid on none, — 
To form the taste, to purify the eye, 
And tune the ear, that all he tasted, saw» 
Or heard, might be harmonious, sweet, and-fair. 
Who would, might groan ; who would, might sing for joy. 

Nature lamented little. UndeTonred 
By spurious appetites, she found enough. 
Where least was found ; with gleanings satisfied, 
Or crumbs, that Gfpm the hand of luxury fell; 
l^et seldom these she ate, but ate the bread 
Of her own industry, made sweet by toil ; 
And walked in robes that her own hand had spun ; 
And slept on down her early rising bought. 
Frugal and diligent in business, chaste 
And abstinent, she stored for helpless age, 
And, keeping in reserve her spring-day health, 
And dawning relishes of life, she drank 
Her evening cup with excellent appetite ; 
And saw her eldest sun decline, as fair 
As rose her earliest mom, and pleased as well. 



{ 



94 THE COUBSB OP TIBfE. 

Whether in crowdfl or solitndeB, in streets 
Or shadjr groves, lAvelt Happiness, it seems 
In vain to%sk, her nature makes it vain, 
Though poets much, and hermits talked, and sung 
Of brooks, and crystal founts, and w,eeping dews, 
And myrtle bowers, and solitary vales. 
And with the nymph made assignations there. 
And wooed her with the love-sick oaten reed ; 
And sages too, although less positive. 
Advised their sons to court her in the shade, 
delirious babble all ! Was h^piness, 
^as self-approving, God-approving joy, 
/In drops of dew, however pure ? in gales, 
} However sweet ? in wells, howevisr clear ? 
| Or g roves, however thick with verdant shade ? 

True, these were of themselves exceeding fair : 
How fair at mom and even ! worthy the wfJk 
Of loftiest mind, and gave, when all within 
Was right, a feast of overflowing bliss; 
But were the occasion, not the cause of joy. 
They waked the native fountains of the soul, . 
Which slept before i and stirred the holy tides I 
Of feeling npi giving the heart to drink 
From its own treasures draughts of perfect sweet. 

The Christian fiiith, which better kaew the heart 
Of man, him thither sent for peace, and thus 
Declared : Who finds it, let him find it there ; 
Who finds it not, for ever let him seek 
In vain ; 'tis God*s most holy, changeless will. 

True Happiness had no localities. 
No tones provincial, no peculiar garb. 
Where Duty went, she went, with Justice went, « 
And went with Meekness, Charity, and Love. 
Where'er a tear was dried, a wounded heart 
Bound up, a bruised spirit with the dew 



I 



BOOK V. 95 

Of sympathy anointed, or a pang 

Of honest suflSsring soothed, or injury* 

Repeated oft, as oft by love forgiven ; 

Where'er an evil passion was subdued, 

Or Virtue's feeble embers fanned ; wl^re'er 

A sin was heartily abjured, and left ; 

Where'er a pious act was done, or breathed 

A pious prayer, or wished a pious wish ; 

There was a high and holy plaee, a spot 

Of sacred light, a most religious fane. 

Where Happiness, descending, sat and smiled. 

But these apart, in sacred memory lives 
The mom of life, first mom of endless days, 
Most joyful morn ! nor yet for naught the joy. 
A being of eternal date commenced, 
A young immortal then was born ! and who 
Shall tell what strange variety of bliss 
Burst on the infant soul, when first it looked 
Abroad on God's creation fasdr, and saw 
The glorious earth and glorious heaven, and face 
Of man sublime, and saw all new, and felt 
All new ! when thought awoke, thought never more 
To sleep ! when first it saw, heard, reasoned, willed, 
And triumphed in the warmth of conscious life ! 

Nor happy only, but the cause of joy, 
Which those who never tasted always mourned. 
What tongue ! — ^no tongue shall tell what bliss o'er 

flowed 
The mother's tender heart, while round her hung 
The ofiTspring of her love, and lisped her name, 
As living jewels dropped unstained from heaven, 
That made her fairer far, and sweeter seem, 
Than every ornament of costliest hue ! 
And who hath not been ravished, as she passed 
With all her playfiil band of little ones, 
Like Luna, with her daughters of the sky, 



96 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Walking in matron majesty and grace ? 

All who had hearft here pleasure foond : and oft 

Have I, when tired with heavy task, — for tasks 

Were heavy in the world below, — ^relaxed 

My weary thouglits among their guiltless sports, 

And led ikem by their little hands a-field, 

And watched them run and crop the tempting flower, — 

Which oft, unasked, they iM'ought me, and bestowed 

With smiling face, that waited for a look 

Of praise j^and answered curious .questions, put 

In much simplicity, but ill to solve ; ^ 

And heard their observations strange and new. 

And 'settled whiles their little quarrels, soon 

Ending in peace, and soon forgot in love. 

And still I looked upon their loveliness, 

And sought through nature for similitudes 

Of perfect beauty, innocence, and bliss. 

And fairest imagery around me thronged ; 

Dew-drops at day-spring on a seraph*s locks, 

Roses that bathe about the well of life. 

Young Loves, young Hopes, dancing on Moming^s cheek, 

Gems leaping in the coronet of Love ! 

So beautiful, so full of life, they seemed 

As made entire of beams of angels* eyes. 

Gay, guileless, sportive, lovely, little things ! 

Playing around the den of Sorrow, clad 

In smiles, believing in their fairy hopes. 

And thinking man and woman true ! all joy, • 

HappjT all day, and happy all the night ! 

Hail, holy Love ! thou word that sums all bliss. 
Gives and receives all bliss, fullest when most 
Thou givest ! spring-head of all felicity. 
Deepest when most is drawn ! emblem of God ! 
O'erflowing most when greatest numbers drink f) 
Essence that binds the uncreated Three, 
Chain that unites creation to its Lord, 
Centre to which all being gravitates. 



.% 



BOOK y. 



97 



Eternal; ever-growing, haj>py Love ! « 

Enduring all, hoping, forgiving all ; . • 
Instead of law, fdlfilUng eyery htvr ; . . 
Entirely blest, because thou seekst ncfmore, 
Hopest not, nor fearst.; but on the present livest, 
And l^oldst perfection smiling in thy arms. 
Afysteriou^, infinite, «xhat^tless Love ! 
• On earth mysterious, and mysteriolia still 
Tn heaven ! sweet chord, that harmonizes all ' 

The harps of Paradise ! the spring*, the well, 
That fills the bowl and banquet of the sky ! ' 

But why Aould I to thee of Loye divine ? 
Who happy, and not eloquent of Love ? 
Who holy, and, as thou art, pure, and not ' 

A temple where her glory ever dwells^ 
Where burn her fifes, and beams her perfect eye P 

Kindred to this^ part of this holy flame, 
/^Was youthful love — the sweetest boon of Earth. 
/ Hail, Love ! first Love, thpu word that sums^ajl bliss! 

I The sparkling -OriMa of all Time's blessedness, • 
The silken down (Sfliappiness complete ! 

I Discerner of the ripest grapes of joy, 

/ She gathered, and selected with her hand, 

' All finest relishes, all fairest sights, 
All rarest odours, all divine0t sounds. 
All thoughts, all feelings dearest to the soul ; 
And brought the holy mixture home, and filled 
The heart with all superlatives of bliss. * 

But, who would that expound, which words tranBcends^ 
Must talk in vain. Behold a meeting scene 
Of early love, and thence infer its worth. 



] 

I 

i 



It was an eve of Autumn^s holiest mood. 
The com fields, bathed in Cynthia's silver light, 
Stood ready for the reaper's gathering hand ; 
And all the Winds slept soundly. Nature seemed, 



\ 



I 



I 



9Q THE GOURAE OF TIME. 

In silent •ontemplation, to adore 

Its Maker. Now-a,nd then, the a^ed leaf 

Fell from its fellows, ra&tlilig .to the ground ; 

And^ as it fell, badb man think on his «nd. 

On vale and lake, on wood and moontain high, 

With pensive wing outspread,jiat heavenly Thought, 

Conversing with itself. Vesger looked forth, • . 

From out her western hermitage, and smiled ', 

And up the east, unclouded, rode the Moon 

With all her Stars, gazing on earth intense, 

As if she saw some wonder walking there. 

Such was the night, so lovely, still, sereHb, 
When, by a hermit thorn that on the hiU 
, HaH seen a hundred flowery ages pass, 

LA damsel kneeled to offer up her prayer. 
Her prayer nightly offered, nightly hpard. — ' 
This ancient thorn had been the meeting place 
Of love, before his coimtry^s voice had called 
The ardent youth to fields of honour far 
Beyond the wave : and hither now repaired, 
Nightly, the maid, by God's all-seeing eye 
Seen only, while she sought this boon alone : 
" Her lover's safety, and his quick return." 
In holy, humble attitude she kneeled. 

One nand, tke o€her lifled up to heaven. 

Her eye, tiptttmed) bright as the star of mom, 

As violet meek, excessive ardour streamed. 

Wafting away her earnest heart to God. 

Her voice, scarce uttered, soft as Zephyr sighs f 

On morning lily's cheek, though soft and low, 

Tet heard in heaven, heard at the mercy-seat. 

A tear-drop wandered on her lovely face ; 

It was a tear of faith and holy fear, 
( Pure as the drops that hang at dawning-time, 
\pn yonder willows by the stream of life. 

On her the Moon looked steadfastly ; the Stars, 



* 



-^-^^ 



• . • BOOK V, • . • 99 

That «irole nightly sound th^etefaal Throne, 
Glanced .down,«weU pleased ', \and EveAasting Love 
Gave gracious audience.* to h|{*)>rS7er sincere. 

Oh, had her lover seen her thus alQne, 
^hus holy, wrestUng'thns^and all for him ! 
Nor did he not : .for eft-times Providence, 
With unexpected joy the fervent prayer** • 

Of faith surprised. Returned from long delay 
With glory crowned of righteous actions won, 
The sacred thorn, to memory dear, first sought 
The youth, uid fomid it at the happy hour, 
Just when tie damsel kneeled herself to pray. 
Wrapped in devotion, pleading with her God, 
She saw him not, lieard not his foot approach. 
All holy images seemed too impure 
To emhlem her he'aifiw. A seraph kneeled, 
Beseeching for his ward, before the Throne, 
Seemed fittest, pleased him best (f§we et was the thought I 
/^ut sweeter still the kind remembrance came, 
/^That she was flesh and blood, formed for himself, 
^ The plighted partner of his future life. 
( And as they met,- embraced, and sat, embowered, 
.^In woody chambers of the starry night, ^.--^ -> 
f Spirits of loviB about them ministered, 
^ And God, approving, blessed the holy joy ! 







Nor unremembered is the hour when friends 
Met. Friends, but few on earth, and ther.efore dear ', 
Sought.oft, and sought afanost as oft in vain ; 
Yet always sought, so native to the heart. 
So much desired, and coveted by ^1.. 
Nor wonder thou, — thou wonderest not nor needst. 
Much beautiful, and excellent, and fair * - 
Was seen beneath the sun ; but naught was seen 
JVIore beautiful, or excellent, or fair, 
Than face of faithful fiiend, fairest when seen 
Fn darkest day ; and many sounds were sweet, 



n 



100 THE coi^B OP time: . 

M'>8t ravbhio^y and pl0asBB| to the car ; 
But sweeter nooe than voice of fai'tfafal (mend. 
Sweet alwaysi aweetesT, Tfe&rd in'loodeat atofm. 
Bome I remember, Vid will ne'er forget ; 
My earlj ftieiidi, frienda oi my evil day ; 
Frienda in my mirth, frienda idony miaery too ; 
Frienda given by God in mercy and in love -, 
My cosnaellora,-siy comfortera, and guidea; 
My joy in grief, my aecond bliaa in joy, 
Companiona of my young deurea ; in^oabt, * 
* hly oraclea^^my winga in high p urauit ^ 

- —Oh, I rememCer, and win ne'^rlbrget. 

Our meeting apota, our ehosen, aacred honr^ 
Our burning worda that uttered all the aoul, 
Our faces beaming with unearthly lovd ] • 

Sorrow with aorrow sighing, hope mrith hope 
Exulting, heart embracing heart entji^p. 
Am birda of social feather helping each 
His fellow's flight, we soared into the akies, ^ 
And cast the clouds beneath our feet, and Earth, 
With all her tardy, leaden-footed Carea, 
And talked the apeech and ate the food of heaven ! 
These I remember, these aelectest men, 
And woold their names recor^ ; but what avails 
My mention of their name ?{ Before the ThroQe 
(JThey styid illustrious 'mong the loudest harpsj^ 
And will receive thie glftd, my friend and theirs. 
Fat ail are friends in heaven, all fiuthful friends ! 
And many friendahips, in the days of Time 
Begun, are hviting here, an^ gEOwing still ; 

. So grows ovrs evenpore, both thflini and miile. 

Nor is the hour of lonely "Widk forgot, 
In the wtfe desert, where the view was large. 
Pleasant were many* scene% but most to me 
The solitude of vast extent, untouched 
By hand of art, where^iature^sowed, herself, 
» And reaped her crops , 'whose garments were the clouds ; 



•♦ • 



,• BOOK V. 101 

Whos^ minstrels, brooks ; whose lamps, the moon and 

stars; 
Whose organ-choir, the yoice of many waters ; 
Whose banqpiets, morning dews ; whose heroes, storms y 
Whose warriors, mighty winds } whose loye^rs, flowers ; 
^Vhose orators, the thunderbolts of God ; . 
Whose palaces, the everlasting hills ; « 

Whose ceiling, heaven's unfiithomable blue ; 
And from whose rocky turrets," battled high. 
Prospect immense spre^ out on all sides round, 
Lost now between the welkin and the main, 
Now walled with hills thtft slept above the storm. 

Most fit was such a place for musing mon, 

Happiest sometimes when musing without aim. 

It was, indeed, a wondrous sort of bliss 

The lonely bard enjoyed, when forth he wotted, 
« Unpurposed ; stood, and knew not why ; sat down, 

And knew not where ; arose, and knew not when ', 
\ Had eyes, and saw not ; ears, and nothing heard ; 

And sought — sought neither heaven nor earth — sought 
naught. 

Nor meant to think ; but ran, meantime, through vast 

; Of visionary things, fairer than aught 

That was ; andi^giwjhe distant tops of thcKights, 
(which men of cc»nmon stature never saw^ "' 

Greater than aught that*large8t words could hold, 

Or give idea of, to those who read. 

He entered in to Nature's holy place. 

Her inner chamber, a]}d beheld her face 

Unveiled ; and hejurd unutterable things, 

And incommunicable vifioions saw ; 
' Things then unutterable, and visions then 

Of incommunicable glory l^ffigbt ', . 

But by the lips of after ages formed 

To words, or by their pencil pictured forth ; 

Who, entering. farther in, beheld again. 

And h«ard unspeakable and marvellous things, 



. 102 THfi COURSE OF TIME. •. 

Which other ages in their turn reyealed^ % 

And left to others, greater wonders stiH. 

^ T The earth abounded mnch in silent wastes. 

/Nor yet is heaven without its solitudes, 
/ Else incon^>lete in bliss, whither who will 
/ May oft retire, and meditate alone, 
. Of God, redemption, holiness, and love ; 
Nor needs to fear a setting son, or haste 
Him home from rainy tempest miforeseen, 
Or, sighing, leave his'dioughts for want of time. 

But whatsoerer was both good and fair. 
And highest ralish of enjoyment gave, 
In intellectual exercise was foundi 
When gazing through the future, present, .past, 
Inspired^ tho^ht linked to thought, harmonious flowed 
In poetry — ^the loftiest mood of mind ; 
Or when philosophy the reason led 
Deep through the .outwavd circumstance of things ; 
And saw the master-wheels of Nature more ; 
And travelled far along the endless line 
Of eertain and of probable ; and nade, 
At eveiystep, some new discovery 
That gave the soul sweet sense of larger room. 
High the^e porstAs, and sooner to be-named^ 
Deserved; at present, enly^named, again . 
To be reoained, and pnuapd in leoger verse. 

Abundant and diversified abov« 
All number, were the sources of delight \ 
As infinifee as were Hie lipe tiiat drank ; 
And to the pure, lA innocent and pure ; 
T%o simplest still to wriest men the best. 
One made BC^^Baintaaeeship with f laats and flowers, 
And happy gtew in telling all their names ; 
One daissed the quadrupeds ; a third, Um fowls -, 
Anodier found in minerals his joy : . 



BOOK V. 103 

And I have seen* a man, a worthy man, 

In happy mood conversing with a fiiy ; 

And as he, through his "glass, made by himself. 

Beheld its woodroas eye «ad plumage fine, 

From leaping scarce he kept, for perfect joy< 

And from my path I with my friend have turned,- y' 
A man of excellent mind and excellent heart. 
And climbed the neighbouring hill^ with arduous step, 
Fetching from distant caim> or from the earth 
Digging, with labour sure, the ponderous stone. 
Which, haying carried to the highest top, 
Wc/downward rolled ; and as it strove, at firftf 
With obstacles that seemed to match Its force,. 
With feeble, crooked X(iotion to and fro 
Wavering, h6 looked with interest most intense, 
And prayed almost ; and as it gathered strength, 
And straightened the current of its furious flow, 
Exulting in the swiftness of its course, 
Andf rising now with rainbow-bound immense, 
Leaped down careering o'er the subject plain, 
He clapped his hands in sign of boundless bliss,^ 
And laughed and talked, well paid for all hi^^oil : 
And when at night the story was rehMrsed, 
Uncommon gloiy kindled in his eye. 

And there wore, too^Hatp \ lift thy voice on high, 
And run in rapid numbers o'er the face 
Of Nattire's scenery, — and there were day 
And night, and rising ««ns and setting suns, 
And clouds that seemed like chariots of saints. 
By fiery coursers drawn, sa brightly hued 
As if the glorious, boshy, golden locks 
Of thousand cherubim had been dtom oflT, 
And on the temples hung of Mom and £ven. 
And there were moons, and stars, and 4tLrkiie8s streaked 
With light ; and voice and tempest heard seoure, 
And there were seasons coming oveimoro, 



ki 



■S 



104 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And going still, all fair, and abrays new, 

With bloom, and fruit, and fialdi of hoary grain 

And there were hills of flock, and groves of song, 

■And flowery streams, and garden walks embowered, 

Where, sid^y side, the rose and lily bloomed ; 

And sacred founts, wild harps, and moonlight glens. 

And forests vast, fair lawo^ '^^ lonely oaks, 

And little willows sipping at the brook ; 

Old wizard haunts, and dancing seats of mirth ; 

Gay festive bowers, and pa^pes in dust ; 

Dark owlet nooks, and caves, and battled rocks ; 

And winding valleys, roofed with pendent shade ; 

And tall and perilous cliflb, that overlookqd 

The breadth of Ocean, sleeping on his waves ; 

Sounds, sights, smells, tastes, the heaven and earth, 

prQf\2fle 
In endless sveets, above all praise of song : . ' 
For noit to nse alone did Providence 
Abound ; but large example gave to man 
Of grace, and ornament^ and splendour rich, 
l^uited abundantly to every taste, 
' In bird, beast, fish, winged and creeping thing, 
< In herb, and flower, and in the restless change, 
Whiah, on the many-coloured seasons, madd 
The annual circuit of the fruitful earth, 
'^or do I aught of earthly sort remember, — 
If partial feeling to my native place 
Lead not my lyre astray, — of fairer view. 
And comelier walk, than the blue mountain-paths, 
And saewy clifis of Albion renowned ; 
Albion, an isle long blessed with gracious laws. 
And gracious kings, and favoured much of Heaven, 
Though yielding oft penurious gratitude. 
Nor do I of that isle remember aught 
Of prospect more sublime and beautiful. 
Than Scotia's northern battlement of ^lills. 
Which first I from my father's house beheld, 
At dawn of life ; beloved in memory still, 









BOOK V. 105 

And standard still of rufal imagery. 

What most resembles th«m, the fairest seems, 

And stirs the eldest sentiments of bliss ; *" 

And, pictused on the tablet of my heart, 

Their distant shapes eternally remain, ^ 

And in my dreams their fcloudy tops arise. \ 

Much of my native scenery appears, 

And presses forward to be in my song ; 

But must not now, for much behind awaits * 

Of higher note. Four trees I pass not by, « 

* Which o'er our house their evening shadow threw ; 

Three ash, and one of elm. \Tall trees they were, 
(And old, and had been old a century 

0efore my day. None living could say aught 

About their "yoiitli; but they were goodly trees : 

And oil I wondered,— ^as I sat^and thought 

Beneath their summer shade, or, in the night 

Of winter, heard the spirits of the wind 

Growling among their twughs, — how they had grown 

So high, in such a rough, tempestuous place ; 

Aad when a hapless branch, torn by Ihe blast. 

Fell down, I moumed,^ as if a friend had fallen. 

These I distinctly hold in memory still. 
And all the desert scenbry around. 
Nor fltrauge, that recollection there should dwell, 
Where first I heard of God's redeeming love ; t 
/ First felt and reasoned, loved and was belovedT^ 
And firA awoke the harp to holy song. 

To hoar and green there was enough of joy. '^' 

Hopes, ^endahips, charities and warm pursuit. 
Gave comfortable flow to youthAil blood. 
And there were old remembrances of days, 
When, on the glittering dews of orient Ufe, 
Shone sunshine hopes, unlculed, unperjured, then; 
And there were childish sports, and school-boy feats, 



106 THE COURI^E OF TIME. 

And Bchool-boy spots, ^d earnest vows of love) 

Uttered, when passion^ Boisterous tide ran high, 

Sincerely uttered, though but seldom kept : 

And there were angel looks, and sacred hours 

Of rapture, hours that in a moment passed^ 

And yet were wished to last for jQirermore ^ 

And venturous exploits, and hardy deeds, 

And bargains alirewd, achieved in n\anhood*8 prime ; 

And thousand recoUections, gay and sweet, 

Which, As the old and venerable man 

Approached the grave, around him, smiling, flocked. 

And breathed new ardour through his ebbing veins. 

And touched hl& Ups with endless eloquence, 

And Qbeered wd much refreshed his withered heart. 

Indeed, eacli thing I'omembel'ed, all but guilty 
"ii^s pleasant, and a constant source of joy. 
Nor li^d the old on memory alone. 
He in his childbien lived.a second life. 
With them again took root, sprang with their hopes, 
Entered into their schemes, partook their fears. 
Laughed in their mirth, and in their gain grew jich. 
And sometimes on the eldest cheek was seen 
A smUe as hearty as on face of youth. 
That saw in prospect simny hopes invite, 
Hope's pleasures, sung to harp of sweetest note, 
Harp, heard with rapture on Britannia's Mils, 
With WLpture heard by me, in morn of life. 

Nor small the joy of rest to mortal men, * 

Rest after labour, sleep approaching soft. 
And wrapping all the weary faculties 
In sweet repose. Then Fancy, unrestrained 
By sense or judgment, strange- confusion made 
Of future, present, past, combining things 
Unseemly, things unsociable in nature. 
In most absurd communion, ligighable, 
Though sometimes vexing sore the slumbering soul. 



BOOK V. 107 

Sporting at will, she, through her airy halls, 
With moonbeams paved, and canopied with stars^ 
And tapestried with marvellous imagery, 
And shapes of gk>ry, infinitely faijr, 
Alovin^ and mixing in most wondrous dance, — 
Fantastically walked, but pleased so well, 
That iU she liked the judgment's voice severe, 
WMch called her home when noisy morn awoke. 
And oil she sprang beyond the bounds of Time 
On. her swifl pinion lifting up the souls 
Of righteous men, on high to God and heaven, 
' Where they beheld unutterable things ; 
And heard the glorious music of the blessed^ 
Circling the throne of the Eternal Three ; 
And, with the spirits utkilicamate, took 
Celestial pastime, on the hills of God, 
Forgetftil of the gloomy pass between. 

Some dreams were useless, nMved by turbid oourte 
Of animal cUsorder ; not so all. 
Deep moral lessons seme impressed, that naught 
Could afterwards deface : and oft in dreams, 
The master passion of the soul displayed 
His huge deformity, concealed by dty. 
Warning the sleeper to beware, awidke : 
And oft in dreams, the reprobate and vile. 
Unpardonable sinner, — as he seemed 
Toppling upon the perilous edge of hell, — 
In dreadful apparition, saw, before 
His vision pass, the shadows of the damned ; 
And saw the glare of hollow, cursed eyes 
Spring from th^e skirts of the infernal night ; 
And s^w the st^uls of^ wicked men, new dead, 
By devils hearsed into the fiery gulf; 
And beard the' burning of the endless flames ; 
And heiird the weltering of the waves of wrath ; 
And soibetimes, too, before his fancy, passed 
The Worm that nev^r dies, writhing iti folds 



108 THE COURSE OF TIME. • 

In hitieoitf tor^, And with etepial De2^h 
Heidi horiiiii go)1oc^, giving^ the ^retcl^ 
Unwfelcodie earnesi x>f the w0 to oom^ 
But these we leave/, as unbefitting vpog. 
That promised hapjpy narrative of joy. 

But what of all the joys of. earth wtts most 
* Of native growth, moat proper to the soil, ^ 

Not elsewhere known, in worlds that nerer^ll. 
Was joy that sprung from disappointed wo. 
The joy in grief, the pleasure after pain, * 
Fears turned to hopes, meetings expected net, 
DeUverances from dangerous attitudes, 
Better for worse, and best sometimes fot wovt, 
« And all the seeming ill en dym^ in good^ — '— ~ 
A sort of happiness composed, which none 
Has had ezperience of, but mortal man ; 
Tet not to be despised. Look back, and one , 
Behold, who would not give her tear for all 
The smiles that dance about the cheek of Mirth. 

Among the tombs she walks at noon of nighty 

In miserable garb of widowhood. 

Observe her yonder, sickly, pale, and sad. 

Bending her wasted body o'er the grave 

Of him who was the husband of b^r youth. 

.The moonbeams, trembling through these ancient yews. 

iThat stand like ranks of mourners round the bedy 

Of death, fall dismally upon her face, 
5 Her little, hollow, withered face^ almost 
«^ Invisible, so worn away with wo. 

The tread of hasty foot, passing so late, 

Disturbs her not ; nor yet the roar of mirth, 

From neighbourix)g revelry ascending loud. 

She hears, sees naught, fears ^aught. One thought 
alone 

Fills all her heart and soul, half hoping, half 

Remembering, sad, unutterable thought ! 



• 



^ 



• 



^ BOOK V, 109 

Uttered by ailettce and by tears alone. ^ 

Sweet tears ! the awful language, eloquent 
Of infinite affection, far too big ^ 

Fer words. She sheds not many now. That grass, 
Which springs so raxikly o'er the dead, has drunk 
Already many showers of gjlief : a drop 
Or two are ah that now remain nehind. 
And, from her eye that darts strange fiery beams, 
At Areary intervals, drip down her cheek, ' 

^ Friliag miMftino unrfully ■€?<>«» bqMut»4>ea»« > 4"'''^ 
^ But yet she wanlb not tears. That babe, that hang* 
Upon her breast, that babe that never saw 
Its father — ^he was dead before its birth — • 

Helps heiiito weq[», weeping before its time, 
Tauglit sorrow by the mother's melting voice, 
' Repeating ofl the father's sacred name. « 
Be not surprised at this expense of wo ! 
The man she mourns was all she called her own, 
The music of her ear, light of her eye. 
Desire of 'all her heart, her hope, her fear. 
The element in which her passions lived, . 
Dead now, or dying all : nor long shall she 
Visit that place of skulls. Night afier night, ^ 
She wears herself awa^ 'The moonbeam, nowi 
/^That falls upon her unsubstantial firame, 
I Scarce finds obstruction; and upon her bones, 
^Barren as leafless boughs in winter-time. 
Her infant fastens his little hands, as oft, 
Forgetful, she leaves him a while nnheld. 
But look, she passes not -away in gloom. 
A light firom fiur illumes her fi&ce, a light 
That comes beyond the moon, beyond the son — 
The light of truth divine, the glorious hope 
Of resurrection at thoT promised morn, 
And meetings then which ne'er shall part again. 

Indulge another note of kindred tone, 
Where grief was mixed with melancholy joy. 
10 

</ ■ . • 






110 TilB COURSE OF^IME. *^ 

Our nghs were nnmerouB, and prcAue o\ir teai%, 
For she, we lost, was lovely, and we loved 
Her much. Fresh m our memory, as fresh 
As yesterday, is yet the day she died. 
It was an April day ; a^ blithely all 
The youth of nature leaped beneath the sun, 
And promised glorious manhood; and our hearts 
Were glad, and round them danced the lightsome bloody 
In healthy merriment, when tidings came, 
A child was born : and tidings came again, 
That she who gave it birth was sick to death. 
So swift trode sorrow on the heels of joy ! 
We gathered round her bed, and bent ouc knees 
In fervent supplication to the Throne 
Of Mercy, and perfumed our prayers with sighs 
Sincere, and penitential tears, and looks . 
Of self-abasement '; but we sought to qtay '•' 
An angel on the earth, a spirit ripe 
For heaven ; and Mercy, in her love, refused, 
Mdst merciful, as ofl, when seeming least ! V 
Most gracious when she seemed the most to frown ! 
Toe room I well remember, and the bed 
On which she lay, and all the faces too. 
That crowded dark and mournfully around 
Her father there and mother, bending, stood > 
And down their aged cheeks fell many drops 
Of bitterness. 'Her husband, too, was there, 
And brothers, and they wept ; her sisters, top, 
Did weep and sorrow, comfortless ; and I, 
Too, wept, though not to weeping given ) tand all 
Within the house was dolorous and sad. * 
This I remember well ; but better still, 
I do remember, and will nd'er forget, 
The dying eye ! That eye alone was bright. 
And brighter grew, as nearer death approached \ 
As I have seen the gentle little flower 
Look fairest in the silver beam which fell. 
Reflected from the thunder-cloud that soon 



BOOK V. ^^ 111 

Came down, and <0eT the desert scattored far 

And wide its loveliness. / She made a sign 

To bring her babe — 'twas brought, and by her placed. 

She looked upon its face, th&t neither smiled , 

' Nor wept, nor knew who gazed i&pon't ; Aid laid 
'\ Her hand upon its little breast, and sought 
'- Fqt it, with look that seemed to penetrate 
' The heavens, unutterable blessings, such 

As God lo dying parents only granted, 

* FiSt infants left behind them in the world. 

/ ** God keep my child !" we heard her say, and heard « 

No more. The Angel of the Covenant % 

. Was come, and, faithful to his promise, stood, - ^ ^ 

. Prepared to walk with her through death's darkv^^'^-^ * ' ». -'^ 
' And now her eyes grew bright, and brighter still, 
. Too bright for ours to look upon, suffused 
With many tears, and closed withotit a cloud. 
They set as sets the morning star, which goes 
. Not down behind the darkened west, nor hides 

* Obscured among the tempests of the sky, 

! Bat melts away into the light of heaven.^ ' ^ 

V. / 



Loves, friendships, hopes, and d»ar remembrances, 
The kind embracings of the heart, and hours 
Of happy thought, and smiles'coming to tears, 
And glories of the heaven and starry cope 
Above, and glories of the earth beneath, — 
These were the rays that wandered through the gloom • 
Of mortal life ;^ells of the wilderness, 
Redeeming features in the face of Time, 
Sweet drops, that made the mixed cup of Earth 
A palatable draugh^^too bitter else. 

About the joys and pleasures of the world, 
This question was not seldom in debate : 
Whether the righteous man, or sinner, had 
The greatest share, and relished them the most ? 
Truth gives the answer thus, gixp« it distinct. 



112 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Nor needs to reason long : The righteous man. 
For what was he denied of earthly growth, 

•Worthy the name of good ? Tmth answers, Naught. 
Had he not appetites, and sense, and will ? 
Might he not eat, if Providence allowed. 
The finest of the wheat ? (Might he not drink 
The choiceA wine ? \ True, he was temperate } 
But, then, was temperance a foe to peace ? 
Might he not rise, and clothe himself in gold ? 
Ascend, and stand in palaces of kings ? -n 

•True, he was honest still and charitable : ' 

Were, then, these virtues foes to human peace ? 

(/Might he not do exploits, and gain a nanie?) ^ ^ 
Most true, he trode not down a fellow's nght, 
Nor walked up to a throne on skulls of men : 
Were justice, then, andmercy, foes to peace ? 
Had he not friendships, loves, and smiles, and hopes ? 

^^t not around his table sons and daughters\j j 
Was not his ear with music pleased ? his eye "^ 
With light ? his nostrils with perfumes ? his lips 
With pleasant relishes ? Grew not his herds ? 
Fell not the rain upon hja meadows? reaped 
He not his harvests ? and did not his heart 
Revel, at will, through all the charities 
And sympathies of nature, unconfined ? 
And were not these all sweetened and sanctified 
By dews of holiness, shed from above ? 
Might he not walk through Fancy's airy halls ? 
Might he not History's ample page survey ? 
Might he not, finally, explore the depths 
Of mental, moral, natural, divine ? 
But why enumerate thus ? Oqp word enough. 
There was no joy in all created things. 
No drop of sweet, that turned not in the end 
To sour, of which the righteous man did not 
Partake ; partake, invited by the voice 
Of God, his Father's voice, who gave him all 
His heart's desire : and o'er the sinner still, 



• ; 



T^r 



BOOJC V. 113 

The Oirlstian had this ono advantage more, 
That when his earthly pleasures failed, — and fail 
Thej always did to every soul of man, — 
He sent his hopes on high, looked up, and reached 
His nckle forth, and reaped the fields of heaven, 
<^ And plucked the clusters from the vines of God.) 

Nor was the general aspect of the world 
Always a moral waste. A time there came, 
Thoogh few believed it e'er should come ; a time, 
Typed by the Sabbath day recurring once 
In seven, and by the year of rest indulged 
Septennial to the lands on Jordan's banks ; 
A time foretold by Judah's bards in words 
Of fire, a time, seventh part of time, and set 
Before the eighth and last, the Sabbath day 
Of all the earth, when all had rest and peace. 
Before its coming many to and fro 
Ran, ran from various cause ; by many sent 
From various cause, upright and crooked both. 
Some sent and ran for love of souls, sincere ; 
A^d more, at instance of a holy name. 
With godly zeal much vanity was mixed ; 
And circumstance of gaudy civil pomp ; 
And speeches buying praise for praise ; and lists, 
And endless scrolls, surcharged with modest names 
That sought the public eye ; and stories, told 
In quaekish phrase, that hurt their credit, even 
When true ; combined with wise and prudent means. 

LMuch wheat, much chaff, much gold, and much alloy ', ^ 
But God wrought with the whole, wrought most with 

what 
To man seemed weakest means, and brought result 
Of good, from good and evil both j/and breathed 
Into the withered naticNis breath and life, 
The breath and Ufe of liberty and truth. 
By means of knowledge, breathed into the soul. 
10* 



114 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Then wm the evil day of tyraimy, 
Of kingly and of prieftly tyranny, 
That bruised the nations long. As yet, no state 
Beneath the heavens had tasted freedom's wine, 
Though loud of freedom was the talk of all. 
Some groaned more deeply, being heavier tasked ; 
Some wrought with straw, and some without ; but all 
Were slaves, or meant to be ; for rulers, still, 
Had been of equal mind, excepting few, 
Cruel, rapacious, tyrannous, and vile, 
And had with equal shoulder propped the Beast. 
As yet, the Church, the holy spouse of God, 
In members few, had wandered in her weeds 
Of mourning, persecuted, scorned, reproached. 
And buffeted, and killed ; in members few, 
Though seeming many whiles ; then fewest, oft. 
When seeming most. She still had hung her harp 
Upon the willow-tree, and sighed, and wept 
Frdm age to age. Satan began the war, 
And all his angels, and all wicked men, 
Against her fought by wile, or fierce attack, 
Six thousand years ; but fought in vain. She stood, 
Troubled on every side, but not distressed ; 
Weeping, but yet despairing not ; cast down, 
But not destroyed : for she upon the palms 
Of God was graven, and precious in his sight, 
As apple of his eye; and, like the bush 
On Midia's mountain seen, burned unc(msumed ; 
But to the wilderness retiring, dwe]|, 
Debased in sackcloth, and forWn in tears. 

As yet had sung the scarlet-coloured Whore, 
Who on the breast of civil power reposed 
Her harlot head, (the Church a harlot then. 
When first she wedded civil power,) and drank 
The blood of martyred saints, — ^whose priests were lords, 
Whose coffers held the gold of every land, 



I 



( 
\ 



BOOK V. 116 

Who held a cup of all pollutions full, 
Who with a double horn the people pushed^ 
And raised her forehead, full of blasphemy, 
Above the holy God, usurping oft 
Jehovah's incommunicable names. 

'^he nations had been dark > the Jews had pined, \ 
Scattered without a name, beneath the Curse ; \ 
War had abounded, Satan raged, unchained ; J 

^^nd earth had still been black with moral gloom./' 

But now the cry of men oppressed went up 
Before the Lord, and to remembrance came 
The tears of all his saints, their tears, and groans. 
Wise men had read the number of the name \ 
The prophet-years had rolled ; the time, and times, 
And half a time, were now fulfilled complete ; 
The seven fierce vials of the wrath of Grod, 
Poured by seven angels strong, were shed abroad * 
Upon the earth, and emptied to the dregs; 
The prophecy for confirmation stood ; 
And all was ready for the sword of God. 

The righteous saw, and fled without delay, 
(jnto the chambers of Omnipotence. \ 
The wicked mocked, and sought for erring cause, 
To satisfy the dismal state of things ; 
The public credit gone, the fear in time 
Of peace, the starving want in time of wealth, 
The insurrection muttering in the streets, 
And pallid consternation spreading wide ; 
jAjoA leagues, though holy termed, first ratified : 
/ In hell, on purpose made to under-prop / 

i Iniquity, and crush the sacred truth. y' 

Meantime, a mighty angel stood in heaven, \ 
And cried aloud, " Associate now yourselves, / 
Ye princes, potentates, and men of war, 






116 ^ THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And mitred heads; asaociate now yonrselTes, 
■ And be dispersed ; emblittle, and be broken. 
Gird on your anx^ur, and be dashed to dost. 
Take counsel, and it shall be brought to naught. 
Speak, and it shall not stand." And suddenly 
The armies of the saints, imbannered, stood 
On 2ion hill ; and with them angels stood 
In squadron bright, and chariots of fire ; 
And with them stood the Lord, clad like a man 
Of war, and to the sound of thunder, led 
' The battle on. Earth shook, the kingdoflu shook, 
The Beast, the lying Seer, dominions, fell ; 
Thrones, tyrants fell, confounded in the dust, 
Scattered and driven before the breath of God, 
As chaff of summer threshing floor, before 
The wind. Three days the battle wasting slew. 
The sword was full, the arrow drunk with blood ; 
And to the supper of Almighty God, 
Spread in Hamonah's vale, the fowls of heaven, 
And every beast, invited, came, and fed 
On captains' flesh, and drank the blood of kings. 

And, lo ! another angel stood in heaven, 
Crying aloud with mighty voice, ** Fallen, lallen, 
Is Babylon the Great, to rise no more. 
Rejoice, ye prophets ! over her rejoice. 
Apostles ! holy men, all saints, rejoice ! 
And glory give to God and to the Lamb." 
And all the armies, of disburdened earth, 
As voice of many waters, and as voice 
Of thunderings, and voice of multitudes, 
Answered, Amen. And every hill and r^k. 
And sea, and every beast, answered, Amen. 
Europa answered, and the farthest bounds 
Of woody Chili, Asia's fertile coasts. 
And Afric's burning wastes, answered. Amen. 
And Heaven, rejoicing, answered back, Amen 



BOOK V. 117 

,'' Not flo th« wicked. They afar were heard 
; Lamenting. Kings, who drank her cup of whoredoms^ 
'\ Captains, and admirals, and mighty men, 
Who lived deliciously ; and merchants, rich 
With merchandise of gold, and wine, and oil ; 
And those who traded in the souls of men, 
/'Known by their gaudy robes of priestly pomp; — 
i AU these afar off stood, crying, Alas ! 
'^^vAJas ! and wept, and gnashed their teeth, and groaned ; 
A^idj'^lji the Qwl that on^ier ruins «at, 
M^^ l^lotoUtf'eoticert in the ear of Ntgl^t. 
' And oyer her again the Heavens rejoiced, 
I And Earth returned again the loud response. 

Thrice happy days ! thrice blessed the man who saw 
Their dawn ! The Church and State, that long had held 
Unholy intercourse, were now divorced ; 
Princes were righteous men, judges upright ; 
And first, in general, now — ^for in the worst 
Of times there were some honest seers — ^the priest 
Sought other than the fleece among his flocks. 
Best paid when God was honoured most ; and like 
/k. cedar, nourished well, Jerusalem grew, 
/ And towered on high, and spread, and flourished fiur ; 
'. And underneath her bows the nations lodged, 
' All nations lodged, and sung the song of peace. 
From the four winds, the Jews, eased of the Curse, - 
Returned, and dwelt with God in Jacob's land, 
( And drank of Sharon and of Carmel's vine, 
^atan was bound, though bound, not banished quite^ 
But lurked about the timorous skirts of things, 
HI lodged, and thinking Whiles to leave the earth, 
And with the wicked,-7-fbr some wicked were, — 
Held midnight meetings, as the saints were wont, 
Fearful of day, who once was as the sun. 
And worshipped more. The bad, but few, became 
A taunt and hissing now, as heretofore 
The good ; and, blushing, hasted out of sight. 



i 



118 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Disease was none ; the voice of war forgot ; 
The sword, a share ; a pruning-hook, the spear. 
Men grew and multiplied upon the earth, 
And filled the city and the waste ; and Death 
Stood waiting for the Upse of tardy Age^ 
That mocked him long. Men grew and multiplied, 
But lacked not bread ; for God his promise brought 
To mind, and blessed the land with plenteous rain, 
And made it blessed for dews and precious things 
Of heaven, and blessings of the deep beneath, 
And blessings of the sun and moon, and fruits 
Of day and night, and blessings of the vale, 
And precious things of the eternal hills, 
And^m the fulness of perpetual- spring. 

The prison-house, where chained felons pined. 
Threw open his ponderous doors, let in the light 
Of heaven, and grew into a church, where God 
Was worshipped. None were ignorant, selfish none. 
Love took the place of law ; where'er you met. 
A m&n, you met a friend, sincere and true. 
Kind looks foretold as kind a heart within ; 
Words as they sounded, meant ; and promises 
Were made to be performed. Thrice happy days ! 
Philosophy was sanctified, and saw 
Perfections that she thought a fable, long. 
Revenge his dagger dropped, and kissed the hand 
Of Mercy j Anger cleared his cloudy brow. 
And sat with Peace ; Envy grew red, and smiled 
On Worth ; Pride stooped, and kissed Humility j 
Lust washed his miry hands, and, wedded, leaned 
On chaste Desire ; and Falsehood laid aside 
His many-folded cloak, and bowed to Truth ; 
And Treachery up from his mining came. 
And walked above the ground with righteous Faith 
And CovetousnesB ujxclenched his sinewy hand, 
And opened his door to Charity, the fair ; 
■'^ Hatred was lost in Love ; and Vanity, 



\ 



BOOK ▼. 119 

With a good conscience pleased, her feathers cropped ; 

Sloth in the morning rose with Industry ; 

To Wisdom Folly turned ; and Fashion turned 

Deception off, in act as good as i^ord. 

The hand that held a whip was lifted up 

To bless ; slave was a word in ancient books 

Mety only ; every man was free ; and all 

Feared God, and served him day and night in love. 

How fair the daughter of Jerusalem then ! , 
How gloriously from Zion Hill she looked ! 
Clothed with the sun, and in her train the moon, 
And on her head a coronet of stars, 
Aftd girdling round her waist, with heavenly grac^ 
The bow of Mercy bright ', and in her hand 
Immanuel's cross, her sceptre and her hope. 

Desire of every land ! the nations came, 
And worshipped at her feet ; all nations came, 
Flocking like doves^: Columba's painted tribes, 
That from Magellan to the Frozen Bay, 
Beneath the Arctic, dwelt ; and drank the tides 
Of Amazona, prince of earthly streams ; 
Or slept at noon beneath the giant shade 
Of Andes' mount ; or, roving northward, heard 
Nigara sing, from Erie's billow down 
To Frontenac, and hunted thence the fur 
To Labrador : and Afric's dusky swarms, 
That from Morocco to Angola dwelt. 
And drank the Niger from his native wells. 
Or roused the lion in Numidia's groyes ; 
The tribes that sat among the fabled clifis 
Of Atlas, looking to Atlanta's wave ; 
With joy and melody, arose and came. 
Zara awoke and came, and Egypt came. 
Casting her idol gods into the Nile. 
Black Ethiopia, thaf, shadowless, 
Beneath the Torrid burned, arose and came. 



' 120 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Dattma and Medra, and the pirate tribes 
Of Algeri, with incense came, and pure 
Offering, annoying now the seas no more. 
The silken tribes of Asia, flocking, came, 
Innumerous t Ishmaers wandering race, that rode 
On camels 6*er the spicy tract that lay 
From Persia to the Red Sea coast ; the king 
Of broad Chatay, with numbers infinite, 
Of many lettered casts ; and all the tribes 
That dwelt from Tigris to the Ganges' wave. 
And worshipped fire, or Brahma, fiibled god ; 
Cashmeres, Circassians, Banyans, tender race ! 
That swept the insect from their path, and lived 
Qn herbs and fruits ; and those who peaceful dwelt 
Along the shady avenue that stretched 
From Agra to Lahore ; and all the hosts 
That owned the Crescent late, deluded long ; 
The Tartar hordes, that roamed from Oby's bahk, 
Ungoverned, southward to the wondrous Wall. 
The tribes of Europe came : the Greek, redeemed 
From Turkish thrall, the Spaniard came, and Gaul, 
And Britain with her shipjs, and, cpb- hin itodge, X 
The Laplander, that nightly watched the bear 
Circling the Pole ; and those who saw the flames 
Of Hecla burn the drifted snow ; the Russ, 
■^ Lnnig I whislrftred, and equestrian Pole ; and those 
Who drank the Rhine, or lost the evening sun 
Behind the Alpine towers ; and she that sat 
By Amo, classic stream ; Venice and Rome, 
Head quarters long of sin ! first guileless now, 
And jiWBiag' iii ^riMg WMiiii s^, stretched fbrth her hands. 
And all the Isles of ocean rose and came, 
Whether they heard the roll of banished tides, 
Antipodes to Albion's wave, or watched 
The Moon, ascending chalky TenerifiTe, 
And with Atlanta holding nightly love. 
The Sun, the Moon, the Constellations, came : 
Thrice twelve and ten that watched the Antarctic sleep, 

1 . • 



fc« ' . ■ ^ .1 ' 






- BOOK V. 1^1 

Twice six that near the Ecliptic dwelt, thrice twelve . 

And one, that with the Streamers danced, and stfw 

The Hyperborean Ice guarding the PoIe« 

The East, the West, the South, and snowy North, 

Rejoicing mot, and worshipped reverently 

Before the Lord, in Zion's holy hill ; 

And all the places round about were blessed. 

The animals, as once in Eden, lived 
In peace. The wolf dwelt with the lamb, the bear 
And leopard with the ox. With looks of love, 
The tiger and the scaly crocodile 
Together met, at Gambia's palmy wave. 
Perched on the eagle's wing, the bird of song. 
Singing, arose, and visited the sun; * 

And with the falcon sat tlie gentle lark. 
The little* child leaped from his mother's arms. 
And stroked the crested snake, and rolled unhurt 
Among his speckled waves, and wished him hbme ; 

And sauntering school-boys, slow returning, played 

*^At eve about the lion's den, and wove, 

! Into his shaggy mane, fantastic flowers. 
To meet the husbandman, early abroad. 
Hasted the deer, and waved its woody head ; 
And round his dewy steps, the hare, unscared, 
Sported : and toyed familiar with his dog. 
The flocks and herds, o'er hill and valley spread, 
Exulting, cropped the ever-budding herb. 
The desert blossomed, and the barren sung. 
Justice and Mercy, Holiness and Love, 
Among the people talked, Messiah reigned^ 
And Earth kept Jubilee a thousand years. 
11 



^'W-i 



y^^ff 



I 



4 

THE 



f 



COURSE OF TIME, 



BOOK VI. 



Resume thy tone of wo, immortal Harp ! 

The song of mirth is past, the Juhilee 

Is ended, and the son begins to fade ! 

Soon passed, for Happiness counts not the hours. 

To her a thousand years seem as a day ; 

A day, a thousand years to Misery. 

Satan is lo<M9e, and Violence is heard, 

And Riot in the street, and Revelry 

Intoxicate, and Murder, and Revenge. 

Put on your armour now, ye righteouB t put 

The helmet of salvation on, and gird 

Tour loins about with truth ; add righteousness, . 

And add the shield of faith, and take the sword 

Of God — awake and watch !— The day is near, 

Great day of God Almighty and the Lamb ! 

The harvest of the earth is fully ripe ; 

Vengeance b^ins to tread the great wine-press 

Of fierceness and of wrath ; and Mercy pleads, 

Mercy that pleaded long, she pleads — ^no more ! 

Whence comes that darkness ? whence those yells of 

wo ? 
^ What thunderings are these that shake the world ? 
Why fall the lamps from heaven as blasted figs ^ 
Why tremble righteous men ? why angels pale ? 



124 THE COUKSfi CrP TIME. 

Why is all feni ? what has become of hope ? 
God comes ! God, in his car of rengeance, comes ! — 
Hark * loader on the blast, come hollow shrieks 
pf dissolation ! in the fitfiil scowl ^ 

Of night, near and more near, angels of death 
Incessant flap their deadly wings, and roar 
/, Through aU the fevered air ! the mountains rock, 
'y Th »- monn wmek, ' and all the stai ' s of hcwiyM 
^ BasKiepbly ! oft and sudden gleams the fire, 
Revealing awfully the brow of Wrath ! 
' The Thunder, long and loud, utters his voice, 
Responsive to the Ocean's troubled growl ! 
Night comes, last night, the long;, dark, dark, dark night, 
That has no mom beyond it, and no star ! 
No eye of man hath seen a night like this ! 
Heaven's* trampled Justice girds itself for fight ! 
Earth, to thy knees, and cry for mercy ! cry 
With earnest heart, for thou art growing c4d 
And hoary, unrepented, nnforgiven ! 
And all thy glory mourns ! The vintage moams ! 
Bashan and Carmel, mourn and weep ! and mourn, 
Tliou Lebanon ! with aU thy cedars, mourn. 
Sun ! glorying in ihj strength from age to age, 
So long observant of thyhovr, put on 
Thy weeds of wo, and tell the Moon to weep > 
Utter thy grief at mid-day, mom, and even ; 
Tell all the nations/tell the Clouds that sit 
About tjbe portals of the east and west, 
And wanton with thy g<Hden locks, to wait 
,Thee not to-morrow, for no morrow comes ! 
Tell men and women, tell the new-born child, 
And every eye that sees, to come, and see 
Thee set behind Etemity, for thou 
Shalt go to bed to-night, and ne'er awake ! 
Stars ! walking on the pavement of the sky, 
Out'sentinels of heaven, watching the earth. 
Cease dancing now ; your lamps are growing dim, 
Your graves are dug among the dismal clouds. 



i 



BOOK VI. 125 

m 

And angels are assembling round yonr bier ! 
Orion, monm ! and Mazzaroth, and thou, 
Arcturus ! mourn, with all thy northern sons, 
Daughten of Pleiades ! that nightly Shed 
Sweet influence, and thou, fairest of stars ! 
£;^e of the morning, weep ! and weep at eve ! 
Weep setting, now to rise no more, ** and Hfisne 
On forehead of the dawn," — ^as sung the bard, 
Great bard ! who used on Earth a seraph's lyre 
Whose numbers wandered through eternity, 
And gave sweet foretaste of the heavenly harps ! 
Minstrel of sorrow ! native of the dark, 
Shrub-loving Philomel,<hat wooed the Dews, . 
At midnight from their starry beds, and, charmed,' 
Held them around thy soiig till dawn awoke. 
Sad bird ! pour through the gloom thy weepinjf song, 
Pour all thy dying melody of grief. 
And with the turtle Spread the wave of wo ! 
Spare not thy reed, for thou shalt sing no more ! 

Ye holy bards ! — ^if yet a holy bard ^ 

Remain, — ^what chord shall serve you now ! what harp ! *M 

What harp shall sing the dying Sun asleep, 
And mourn behind-the ftmeral of the Moon ! 
What harp of boundless, deep, ezhaustless wo, , » 
Shall utter forth the groanings of the damned ! 
And sing the obsequies of wicked souls ! 
And wail their plunge ia the eternal fire ! — 
Hold, hold your hands ! hold, angels ! — G^ laments. 
And draws a cloud of mourning round his throne .' 
The Organ of Eternity is mute ! 
And there is silence in the Heaven of Heavens ! 

Daughters of beauty ! choice of beings- made ! 
Much praised, much blamed, much loved ; but fairer ftr 
Than aught beheld, than aught imagined else 
Fairest, and dearer than all else most dear; 
Light of the darksome wilderness ! to Time 
It 



126 ' THE COCRSE OF flUE. 



As aCan to ni^ht, wluMe ^m were epells that heU 

The ^aMenger fi>rgetfiil of bis way, 

Whose steps werfwn^esty, whose words were songy 

Whose smiles were hope, whose actions, perfect grace. 

Whose lore, the solace, ^loiy, and delight 

Of man, his boast, his riches, his renown ; 

When found, snffieient blim ! when lost, despair ! — 

Stars of creation ! images of Ioto '. 

Break up the fountains of jour tears, yonr^ears, 

More eloquent than learned tongue, or Ijrre 

Of purest note 1 your sunny raiment stain, 

Put dust upon your heads, lament and weep, 

And utter all your minstrelsy of no ! 

Go to, ye wicked, weep and howl ; for all 
That God'hath written against you is at hand. 
The cry of Violence hath reached his ear, 
Hell is prepared, and Justice whets his sword. 
Weep all of every name ! Begin the wo, 
Ye woods, and. tell it to the doleful winds ; 
And doleful winds, wail to the howling^ hills ; 
And howling hills, moarn to tlid' dismal vales ; 
And dismal vales, sigh to the sorrowing brooks ; 
And sorrowing brooks, weep to the weeping stream ; 
And weeping stream, awake the groaning deep ; 
And let the instrument take up the song. 
Responsive to the voice, harmonious wo ! 
Ye Heavens, great arch- way of the universe. 
Put sackcloth on ; and Ocean, clothe thyself 
In garb of widowhood, and gather all 
Thy waves into a groan, and utter it. 
Long, loud, deep, piercing, dolorous, immense ' 
The occasion adu it ! — Nature dies, and God 
And angels come to lay her in the grave ! 

But we have overleaped our theme ; behind, 
A little season waits a verse or two, 
The years that followed the millennial rest. 



i 



-J.J 



• 



BOOK VI. 127 

Bad years they were ; and fiispt, as aignal sure, 
That at the core religion was diseased , 
The sons of Levi strove again for place, 
And eminence, and names of swelling pomp . 
Setting their feet upon the {jpople's neck. 
And slumbfring in the lap of civil power. 
Of civil power again tyrannical : 
And second sign, sure sign,, whenever seen, 
That holiness waa dying in a land, 
/ The Sahhath was profaned an^*Set at naught ; 
. ^ The honest seer, who spoke the truth of God 
i, ' Plainly, was left with empty walls ; and round 
The frothy orator, whqt husked his tales 
In quackish pomp of nbisy words, the ear 
Tickling, hut leaving still the heart unprobed. 
The judgment uninformed, — ^numbers immense 
Flocked, gaping wide, with passions high inflamed ; 
And on the way returning, heated, home. 
Of eloquence, and not of truth, conversed — 
Mean eloquence that wanted eacred.truth. 

Two principles from the beginning strove 
In human nature, still divitling man, — 
Sloth and activity ; the lust of praise. 
And indolence that rather wished to sleep. 
And not unfrequently in the same mind 
They dubious contest held ; one gaining now, 
And now the other crowned, and both again 
Keeping the field, with equal combat fought. 
Much different was their voice. Ambition called 
To action. Sloth invited to repose. 
Ambition early rose, and, being up, 
; Toiled ardently, and late retired to rest*; 
'• Sloth lay till mid-day, turning on his conch, 
] Like ponderous door upon its weary hinge, 
/ And, having rolled him out with much ado, 
i And many a dismal stgh^jand vain attempt, 
He sauntered out, accoutred carelessly, — 



♦"- 



128 THE COURSE OF TUfE. 

» 

JVith half-oped, misty, iina|perTtiit eye, 
Sonmiferous, that weighed ^e object down 
On which it* harden fell, — an hour or two, 
Then with a groan retired to reet again. 
The one, whatever deed hat^jbeen achieyed, 
Thought it too little, and too small the praise ; 
The other tried to think, — ^for thinking so 
Answered his pnrpose hest, — ^that what of grreat 
Mankind could do had been already done ; 
And therefore laid him calmly down to sleep. 

Different in mode, destructiye both alike. 
Destructive always indolence ; and love 
Of fame destructive always t<x>, if less 
Than praise of God it sought, content with lees : 
Even then not current, if it sought his praise 
From other motive than resistless love ; 
Though base, main-spring of action in the world ; 
And, under name of vanity and pride. 
Was greatly practbed on by cunning men. 
It opened the niggard's purse, clothed nakedness, 
Gave beggars foo^y and threw the Pharisee 
Upon his knees, and kept him long in act 
Of prayer ; it spread the lace upon the ibp, 
His language trimmed, and planned his curious gait; 
It stuck the feather on the gay coquette, 
And on her finger laid the heavy load 
Of jewellery ; it did — ^what did it not ? 

The gospel preachejd, the gospel paid, and sent tj 

The gospel ; conquered nations, cities built, * 

Measured the furrow of the field with nice 
Directed share, shapod bulls, and cows, and rams. 
And threw the ponderous stone ;(and pitiful. 
Indeed, and much against the grain, it dragged 
The stagnant, dull, predestinated fool, 
Through learning's halls, and made him labour much 
Abortively, though sometimes not unpraised 
He left the sage's chair, and home resumed, 



iF" 



I ^VP- ■ ■• p ■ ■!■ tmi* «•! 



ROOK VI. 129 

,' Making his simpie mother ihigik that she 

1 Had borne a man. In schqold, designed to root 
^in up, and pl^t the seeds of holiness 

; In youthful mindfi, it held a signal place. 

. The little infant man, by nature proud, 
. Was taught the ^liptures by the love of praise, \t . 
And grew religious as he grew in &,me. / \ ' 

And thus the principle, which out of heaven 
The devil threw, and threw him down to hell, 
And keeps him there, was made an instrument 

! To moralize and sanctify mankind. 

And in their hearts beget humility ; « 

V With what success it needs not now to say. ' / , , . . 

Destructive both we said, activity 
And sloth : behold the last exemplified. 
In literary man. Not all at once, 
He yielded to the soothing voice of sleep ; 
But, having seen a bough of laurel wave. 
He Effort made to climb ; and friends, and even 
Himself, talked of liis greatness, as. at hand, 
And, prophesying, drew his future life. 
Vain prophecy ! His fancy, taught by sloth. 
Saw, in the very threshold of pursuit, 
A thousand obstacles ; he halted first, 
And while he halted, saw his burning hopes 
Grow dim and dimmer still ; ambition's self. 
The advocate of loudest tongue, decayed ; 
His purposes, made daily, daily broken. 
Like plant uprooted oft, and set again, 

I More sickly grew, and daily wavered more ; 

/ Till at the last, decision, quite worn out, 

; Decision, fiilcrum of the mental powers, 

^' Resigned the blasted soul to staggering chance ; 
Sleep gathered fiist, and weighed him downward still ; 
His eye fell heavy from the mount of fame ; 
His yQ(ung_resolve8 to benefit the world 
Perished and were forgotten ; ha shut his ear 



mm^ 



- ■ lW ^<ir »' 9 iilJT i ' 



130 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Against the painfhl aewB oCrtsiimr worth ; 
I And drank with desperate thirst the poppy's joice ; 
I A deep and mortal dumber settled down ^ 
/ Upon his weary faculties oppressed ; 
I He rolled from side to side, and rolled again ; 
/ And snored, and groaned, and withered, ^nd expired, 
And rotted on the spot, leaving no name. 

The hero best example gives of toil 
Unsanctified. One word liis history writes. 
" He was a murderet above*the laws. 
And greatly praised for doing murderous deeds/' 
And now he grew, and reached his perfect growth ', 
And also now the sluggard soundest slept, 
And by him lay the nninterred corpse. 

Of every order, sin and wickedness, 
Deliberate, cool, malicious villany. 
This age, attained maturity, unknown 
Before ; and seemed in travail to bring forth P 

Some last, enormous, monstrous deed of guilt, 
Original, unprecedented guilt, 
That might obliterate the memory 
Of what had hitherto been done most vile. 
Inventive men were paid, at public cost. 
To plan new modes of sin ; the }ioly Word 
Of God was burned, with acclamations loud ; 
New tortures were invented for the good ; — 
For still some good remained, as whiles through sky 
Of thickest ^clouds, a wandering star appeared ', — 
New oaths of blasphemy were framed and sworn ; 
And men in reputation grew, as grew 
The stature of their crimes. Faith was not found. 
Truth was not found, truth always scarce, so scarce 
That half the misery which groaned on earth, 
In ordinary times, was progeny 
Of disappointment, daily coming forth 
From broken promises^^that might have ne'er 






■"I" 



BOOK YI. 131 

Been moi^e, or, being made, might have been kept ; 

Justice and merey, too, were rare, obscured 

In cottage garb : before the palace door. 

The beggar rotted, starving in his rags ; 

And on the threshold of luxurious domes. 

The orphan c^d laid down his head, and died ; 

Nor unamusing was his piteous cry ' • 

To women, who had now laid tenderness ^ ' *"* 

Aside, best pleased with sights of cruelty ; . 

Flocking, when fouler lusts would give ^kmm time, ^t c.<.. 

To horrid spectacles of blodd, whefe men, 

Or guiltless beasts, that seemed to look to heaven, 

With eye imploring vengeance on the earth. 

Were tortured for the merriment of kings. 

The advocate for him who offered most 

Pleaded ; the scribe, according to the hireiy 

Worded the lie, adding, for every piece, ^ 

An oath of confirmation ; judges raised 

One^hand to intimate the sentence, death, 

Im|>riBonment, or fine, or loss of goods, 
.'And in the other held a lust J bribe, 
\^]gMch they had taken to give the sentence wrong ; 

So managing the aoale of justice still, 
. That he was wanting found who poorest seemed. 

But laymen, most renowned for deviUsh deeds. 
Laboured at distance still behind the priest ; 
He shore his sheep, and, having packed the wool. 
Sent them unguarded to the hill of wolves ; 
And to the bowl deliberately sat down, 
And with his mistress mocked at sacred things. 

The theatre was, firom the very first, 
The favourite haunt of Sin, though honest men. 
Some very honest, wise, and worthy men, 
Maintained it might be turned to good account ; 
And so perhaps it might, but never was. 
From first to last it was an evil place : 



* ' 



132 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

And now such things were acted there, as mtt^B 
The devils blush ; and ^om the neighbourhood, 
Angels and holy men, trembling, retired : 
And what with dreadfnl aggravation crowned 

- This dreary time, was sin against the light. 
All men knew <jrod, and, knowing, disobeyed ; 

* And gloried to insult bim to his face. 

Another feature only we shall mark. 
It was withal a highly polished age. 
And scrupulous in ceremonious rite. 
When stranger stranger met upon the way. 
First, each to eacll bowed most respectfully, 
And large profession made of humble scdrvice, 
And then the stronger took the other's purse ; 
And he that stabbed his neighbour to the heart. 
Stabbed him politely, and returned the blade 

Reeking into its sheath with graceful air. 

-- I - 

Meantime the earth gave symptoms of her end ; 
And all the scenery above proclaimed, 
»: That the gifeat last catastrophe was near. 
The Sun at rising staggered and fell back, 
As one too early up, after a night 
Of late debauch; then rose, and shone again, 
Brighter than wont ; and sickened «igain, and paused 
In zenith altitude, as one fatigued ; 
And shed a feeble twilight ray at noon, 
Rousing the wolf before his time to chase 
The shepherd and his sheep, that sought for light, 
And darkness found, astonished, terrified ; 
Then, out of course, rolled furious down the vrest, 
As chariot reined by awkward charioteer ; 
And, waiting at the gate, he on the earth 
Gazed, as he thought he ne'er might see't again. 
The bow of mercy, heretefore so feir, 
Ribbed with the native hues of heavenly love, 
Disastrous colours showed, unseen till now ; 



^ 



BOOK VI. 133 

Changing tipon<tiie watery gulf, from pale \ . 

To fiery red, and back again to pale ; v 

And o'er it hovered wings of wrath. The Moon \ f 

Swaggered in midst of heaven, grew black, and darl^, 5 ^^ (^"^ '] ^ 

Unclouded, unecHpsed. The Stars fell down, /^ fi ^ Ji 

Tumbling from off their towers like drunken men, ' ' ^ - < ^i 

Or seemed to fall; and glimmered now, and now / 

Sprang out in sudden blaze and dimmed again, 

As lamp of foolish virgin -lacking tnl. 

The heavens, this moment, looked serene ; the next. 

Glowed like an oven with God's displeasure hot. 

Nor less, below, was intimation gives^ 
Of some disaster great and ultimate. _ ^ 

The tree that bloomed, or hung with clustering fruit, 
Untouched by visible calamity * 
Of frost or tempest, died and came again 
The flower and herb fell down as sick ; then rose 
And fell again. The fowls of every hue. 
Crowding together, sailed on weary wing ; 
And, hovering, oft they seemed about to light ; 
Then soared, as if they thought the earth unsafe. 
The cattle looked with meaning face on man. 
Dogs howled, and seemed to see more than their mas- 
ters. 
And there were sights that none had seen before ; 
And hollow, strange, unprecedented sounds. 
And earnest whisperings ran aloiig tii^eJulUk ...^ . . 
At dead of night ; and long, deep, endless sighs, 
Came from me dreary vale ; and from the ^i^aste * 

Came horrid shrieks, and fierce unearthly groans. 
The wail of evil spirits, that now felt 
The hour of utter vengeance near at hand. 
The winds from every quarter blew at once, 
With desperate violence, and, whirlings took 
The traveller up, and threw him down again, 
At distance from his path, confounded, pale ; 
And shapes, strange shapes ! in winding sheets were seen, 
12 



134 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Gliding through night, and singtng fiuitnl fongs, 

And imitating sad, sepulchral rites ; . 

And vcnces talked among thflrtjlouds, and still 

The words ^at men could catch were spoken of them. 

And seemed to be the words of wonder great, 

And expectation of smne yast event. 

Earth- shook, and swam, and reeled, and opened her 

jaws. 
By Earthquake tossed, and tumbled to and fro> 
And, louder than the ear of man had heard. 
The Thunder bellowed, and the Ocean groaned. 

The race of 4lpn, perplexed, but not reformed, 
Flocking together, stood in earnest crowds, 
Conversing of the awful state of thii^s. 
Some curious explanations gave, unlearned ; 
Some tried affectedly to laugh, and some 
Gazed stupidly ; but all were sad and pale, 
And wished the comment of the wise. Nor less 
These prodigies, occurring night and day. 
Perplexed philosophy. The magi tried, — 
Magi, a name not seldom given to fools, 
In the vocabulary of earthly speech, — 
They tried to trace them still to second cause ; 
But scarcely satisfied themselves ; though round 
Their deep deliberations, crowding, came. 
And, wondering s.t their wisdom, went away, - 
Much quieted and very much deceived, 
The people, always glad to be deceived. 

These warnings passed, they, unregarded, passed ; 
And all in wonted order calmly moved. 
The pulse of Nature regularly beat. 
And on her cheek the bloom of perfect health 
Again appeared. Deceitfol pulse ! and bloom 
Deceitfiil ! and deceitful calm ! The Earth 
Was old, and worn within ; but, like the man, 
Who noticed not his mid-day strength decline^ 



\ 



i 



■*■•- 



BOOK VI. 135 

SiidinjT BO gentljr ronnd the curvature 
Of lifb| from youth, to age, — she knew it not. 
The cahn wag like the caltty which oft the maUi 
Dying, experienced before his death ; . 
. The bloom was but a hectic flush, before ^ 
The eternal paleness. But aU these were taken. 
By this last race of men, for tokens of good ', 
And blustering puUic News aloud proclaimed — 
News always gabbling ere they well had thought — 
Prosperity, and joy, and peace ; and mocked 
The man who, kneeling, prayed, and trembled still j 
And all in earnest to their sins returned. 

ft 

It was not so in heaven. The elders round 
The Throne conversed about the state of man, 
Conjecturing, — for none of certain knew, — 
That Time was at an end. Thby g^ized intense 
IZpQ^ the Diaiy &ce) which yonder stands ^ 
In gbld, before the- Sun of Righteousness, 
Jehovah, an^^computes time, se^nft, years, 
And; d^stinieii, and slowly tiumhfers o'er ' 
Th^ iMghty cycles of eternity ^ 
By CK>d alone completely understood, 
But read by all, revealing «iuch to all. 
And now, to saints of eldest skill, the ray. 
Which on the gniJknon fell pf Time, sedmed sent 
from level west, and kasting^ quickly d<>wn. 
The holy V^lrtnes, watching, saw, beside, 
Great preparation going on in heaven, 
Betokening great event, greater than aught 
That first-created seraphim had seen. 
The faithful messengers, who have for wing 
The lightning, waiting, day 'and night, on God : 
Before his face, beyond their usual speed, 
On pinion of celestial light were seen, 
Coming and going, and their road was still 
From heaven to earth, and back again to heaven. 
The angel of Mercy, bent before the Throne, 



'. 



136 THE COUR5US OP TIME. 

hy eanietft ploading, Msemed to hold the hand 
Of Vengeance back, and win a moment more 
Of late repestaaee fi>r aome Aifbl world 
In jeopajrdy : and, now, the hill of God, 
The mountain of his majeatj, rolled flamea 
Of fire, now amiled with momentary lore. 
And now again with fiery fierceneaa immed ; 
And from behind the darkness of his Throne, 
Through which created yision never saw. 
The living Thunders, in their naUre caves, 
Mu^ltered the terrors of Omtxipotence, 
And ready seemed, impatient to fhl^ 
Some errand of azterminating wrath. 



Meanwhile the EaHh increased in 

And hasted daily to fill ftp her cup. 

Satan raged loose, Sin had her will, and Death 

Enough. Blood trode upon the heels of Blood, 

Revenge, in desperate mood, at midnight met 

Revange, War brayed to War, Deceit deeeiVed 

Deceit, Lie cheated Lie, and Treachery 

Mined under Treachery, and Perjury 

Swore back on Perjury, and Blasphemy 

Arose with hideous Blasphemy, and Curse 

Loud answered Curse ; and drunkard, stnmUing, Ml 

0*er drunkard fidlen ; and husband husband met, . 

Returning each'jRrom other's bed defiled ; 

Thief stole from thief, and robber cm the way 

Knocked robber dowti, and Lewdness, Vidlenee, 

And Hato, met Lswdnsss, Violence, and Hato. 

Oh, Earth ! thy hour was come ! the. last elect 
A^ Was bom, complete the number of the good, 

<-, And the last sand fbll from the glass of Time. 

^^ The cup of guilt was full up to the brim ; 

And Mercy, weary with beseeching, had 

Retired behind the sword of Justice, red 

With ultimate and unrepenting wrath ; 

But ma^ knew not : he o'er his bowl laughed loud, 

( 



■"^•■v 



BOOK VI. 137 

. k 

^ And; prophesying, said, ** To-morrow shall 
As this day be, and more abmidant still !" 
As thou shalt hear — But, hark ! the trumpet sounds, 
And calls to evening song ; for, though with hymn 
Eternal, course succeeding course, extol 
In presence of the incarnate, holy God, 
And celebrate his never-ending praise,-^ 
Duly at mom and night, the multitudes 
Of men redeemed, and angels, all the hosts 
Of glory, join in universal song, 
And pour celestial harmony, from harps 
Above all number, eloquent and sweet, 
Above all thought of melody conceived. 
And now behold the fair inhabitants, 
Delightful sight ! from numerous business turn, 
And round and round through all the eztQS^ of bliss 
Towards the temple of Jehovah bow. 
And worship reverently before his face ! 
• 

Pursuits are various here, suiting all tastes. 
Though holy all, and glorifying God. 
Observe yon band pursue the sylvan stream : 
Mounting among the cliffs, they pull the flower, 
Springing as soon as pulled, and, marvelling, pry 
Into its veins, and circulating blood, 
And wondrous mimicry of higher life ; 
Admire its colours, fragrance, gentle shape ; 
And thence admire the God who made it so — 
So simple, complex, and so beautiful. 

Behold yon other band, in airy robes 
Of bliss. They weave the sacred bower of rose 
And myrtle shade, and shadowy verdant bay, 
And laurel, towering high ; and round their song, 
The pink and lUy bring, and amaranth. 
Narcissus sweet, and jessamine ; and bring 
The clustering vine, stooping with flower and fruit, 
The peach and orange, and the sparkling stream, 
12* 



138 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Warbling with nectar to their lips unasked ; 
And talk the while of eyerlagking loye. / 

On yondbr hill, behold another band. 
Of piercing, steady, intellectaal eye, 
And spacious forehead of sublimest thought. 
The J reason deep of present, future, past ; * 
And trace effect to cause ; and meditate 
On the eternal laws of God, which bind 
Circumference to centre ; and survey. 
With optic tubes, that fetch remotest stars 
Near them, the systems circling round immense, 
Innumerous. See how, — as he, the sage, ^ '^ -/ , , • /-rK^- 
Among the most renowned in days of Time, 
Renowned for large^ capacious, holy soul, 
Demonstrates ^^learly motion, gravity. 
Attraction, and repulsion, still opposed ; 
And dips into the deep, original, 
Unknown, mysterious elements of things, — , 
ScMii hbw the &ce of every auditor 
Ejepands with admiration of the skill. 
Omnipotence, and boundless love of God ! 

These other, sitting near the tree of life, 
In robes of linen flowing white and clean. 
Of holiest aspect, of divinest soul. 
Angels and men, — into the glory look 
Of the Redeeming. Love, and turn the leaves 
Of man's redemption o'er, the secret leaves. 
Which none on earth were found worthy to open ; 
And, as they read the mysteries divine. 
The endless mysteries of salvation, wrought 
By God's incarnate Son, they humbler bow 
Before the Lamb, and glow with warmer love. 

These other, there relaxed beneath the shade 
Of yon embowering palms, with firiendship smile, 
And talk of ancient days, and young pursuits. 



T*. 



■^P" 



\ « 



BOOK VI. 139 

Of dangers j^ansed, of godly triumphs won ; 
And sing the legends of t^j^r native land, 
Less pleasing fiur than this their Father's house. 

Behold that other band, half lifted op 
Between the hill and dale, reclined beneath 
The shadow of impending rocks, 'mong streams, 
And thundering waterfalls, and waviaig boughs ; 
That band of countenance sublime and sweet, 
Whose eye, with piercing, intellectual ray. 
Now beams severe, or now bewildered seems, 
Left rolling wild, or fixed in idle gaze*, 
While Fancy and the Soul are far from home ; 
These hold the pencil, art divine ! and throw 
Before the eye remembered scenes of love ; 
Each picturing to each the. hills, and skiesy 
And treasured stories of the world he left ', 
Or, gazing on the scenery of heaven, 
They dip their hand in colour's native well, 
And, on the everlasting canvass, dash 
Figures of glory, imagery divine. 
With grace and grandeur in perfection knit. 

But, whatsoe'er these spirits blessed pursue. 
Where'er they go, whatever sights they see 
Of glory and bliss through all the tracts of heaven; 
The centre, still, the figure eminent, 
Whither they ever turn, on whom all eyes 
Repose with infinite delight, is God, 
And his incarnate Son, the Lamb once slain 
On Calvary, to ransom ruined men. 

None idle here. Look where thou wilt, they all 
Are active, all engaged in meet pursuit ; 
Not happy else. Hence is it that the song 
Of heaven is ever new ; finr daily thus, 
And nightly, new discoveries are made 
Of God's unbounded wisdom, power, and love. 



140 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Which give the understanding larger roonii^ 
And swell tho hymn with ey^growing praise. 

Behold thef cease ! and ev^ry face to God 
Toms ; and we pause from high poetic theme, 
Not worthy least of being suiig in heaven ; 
And on unvailed Godhead look from this, 
Our ofl-frequentdd«hill. He takes the harp, 
Nor needs to seek befitting phrase : unsought, 
Numbers harmonious roll along tl^e lyre ; 
As river in its native bed, they flow 

Spontaneous, flowing with the tide of thought. *^ 

He takes the harp — a bard of Ju^ah leads, Nl ^j^x ^-v'lt 
This night, the boundless songf'kie bard that once, ^ 

When Israel's king ^as sad and sick to death, ^ -v^ ^ L ^ /) 
A message brought of fifteen added years. -'t-^^f^ \iy If 

Before the Throne he stands sublime, in robes 
Of glory ; and now. his fingers wake the chords 
To praise, which we and all in heaven repeat. 

Harps of Eternity ! begin the song. 
Redeemed and angel harps ! begin to God, ■ 
Begin the anthem ever sweet and new, 
"While I extol Him, holy, just, and good. 
Life, beauty, light, intelligence, and love 
Eternal, .uncreated, infinite ! 
Unsearchable Jehovah ! Grod of truth. 
Maker, upholder, governor of all ! 
Thyself unmade, ungoverned, unupheld ! 

Omnipotent, unchangeable. Great God ! . 

Ezhaustless fulness ! giving unimpaired ! H 

Bounding immensity, unspread, imbound ! J 

Highest and best ! beginning, middle, end ! 1 

All-seeing Eye ! all-seeing, and unseen ! 
Hearing, unheard ! all-knowing, and unknown ! 
Above all praise ! above all height of thought ! 
Proprietor of immortality ! 
Glory ineflable ! bliss und^rived ! 



JtMB^..^^ 



■ IPII V 



BOOK TI. * 141' 

Of old thoi^builtst thy throne on righteouanew, 

Before the morning Stars their^pong began, 

Or filence heard the yoicejef pr^se. Thou laidst 

Eternity's foundation stone, and sawst 

Life and existence out of Xhee begin. 

Mysterious more, the more displayed, where still * 

Upon thy glorious Throne thou sitst alone, 

Hast sat alone, and shalt for ever sit 

Alone, Inyisible, Immortal One ! 

Behind essential brightness unbeheld. 

Incomprehensible ! what weight shall weigh, 

What measure measure Thee ! What know we more 

Of Thee, what need to know, than Thou hast taught, 

And bidst us still repeat, at mom and even ? — 

Ood ! Everlasting Father ! Holy One ! 

Our God, our Father, our Eternal All ! 

Source whence we came, and whither we return ; 

Who made our spirits, who our bodies made. 

Who made the heaven, who made the flowery land, 

Who made all made, who orders, governs all. 

Who walks upon the wind, who holds the wave 

In hollow of thy hand, whom thunders wait. 

Whom tempests serve, whom flaming fires obey, 

Who guides the circuit of the endless years. 

And sitst on high, and makest creation's top 

Thy footstool, and beholdst, below Thee, all — 

All naught, all less than naught, and vanity. 

Like transient dust that hovers on the scale,- 

Ten thousand worlds are scattered in thy breath. 

Thou sitst on high, and measurest destinies, 

And days, and months, and wide«revolving years ; 

And dost according to thy holy will ; 

And none can stay thy haod^ and n<Mie withhold 

Thy glory ; for in judgment. Thou, as well 

As mercy, art exalted, day and night. « 

Past, present, future, magnify thy name. 

Thy works all praise Thee, all thy angels praise. 

Thy saints adore, and on thy altars burn 



l42 ** THE COURSE OF TIME. 

The fragnni tncenM of perpetual lave. ^ * 
They pniee Thee now, ^feh lieaxts, their Totces pnuee. 
And swell the rapture of the gloriotu song. 
Harp ! lift thj yoice on high ! ahoaty angela, about I 
And loodeat, je redeemed ! gloiy to God, 
And to the Lamb who bought na with hia blood. 
From erery kindred, nation, people, tongue ; 
And washed, and aanctified, and saved our soujs ; 
And gave ns robes of linen pure, and crowns 
Of life, and made us kings and priests to God. 
Shout back to ancient Time ! Sing loud, and wave 
Your palms of triumph ! nng. Where is thy sting, 
O Death ! where is thy victory, O Grave I 
' Thanks be to God, eternal thanks, who gave 
Vs victory through Jesus Christ our Lord. 
Harp ! lift thy voice on high ! shout, angels, shout ! 
And loudest, ye redeemed ! glory to God, 
And to the Lamb, all glory and all praise. 
All jflory and all praise, at mom and even, 
That come and go eternally, and find 
Us happy stilly and Thee for ever blessed ! 
Glory to God and to the Lamb. Amen. 
For ever, and for evermore. Amen. 

And those who stoo^ upon the sea of glass, 
^d those who stood upon the battlements 
And lofty towers of New Jerusalem, 
And those who circling stood; bowing afiir, 
Exalted on the everlasting hills, 
Thousands of thousands, thousands infinite, 
With voice of boundless love, answered, Amen. 
And through Eternity near, and remote, 
The worlds, adoring, echoed back, Amen." 
And God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
The One Eternal, smiled superior bliss ! 
Jind. every eye, and every face in heaven, 
Heflecting and reflected, beamed with love^ 



t 



r-.. 



•'^ 



BpoK VI. ^ 143* 

Nor did lie not, the Virtue new arrivedi' 
From Godhead gain, an indiTidual smile, 
Of high acceptance, and of welcome high, * 
And confirmation eyermore in good. , 

Meantime the landscape glowed with holy joj. • 
Zephyr, with wing dipped from the well of life, 

. Sporting through Paradise, shed living dews ; 

. The flowers, the spicy shrubs, the lawns, refreshed, 
Breathed fheir selectest balm, breathed odours, such ' 

' As angels love ; and all the trees of heaven, 
The cedar, pine, and everlasting oak, 

'^Rejoicing on the mountains, dapped their hands. 



> THE 



COURSE OT TIME. 



BOOK VII. 



As one who meditates at eyening tide, 

Wandering alone by voiceless solitudes, 

And flies in fancy, far beyond the bounds 

Of visible and vulgar things, and things 

Discovered hitherto, pursuing tracts 

As yet untraveUed and unknown, through vast 

Of new and sweet imaginings ; if chance 

Some airy harp, waked by the gentle sprites 

Of twilight, or light touch of sylvaii maid, 

In soft succession fall upon his ear, 

And fill the desert with its heavenly tones ; 

He listens intense, and pleased exceedingly, 

And wishes it may never stop; ;^dt when 

It stops, grieves not ', but to his former thoughts 

With fondest haste returns : so did the Seer, 

So did his audience^ «j^r worship passed. 

And praise in heaven, return to sing, to hear 

Of man, not worthy less .the sacred lyre. 

Or the attentive ear ; and thus the bard. 

Not unbesought, again resumed his song. 

In customed glory bright, that mom, the Sun 
Rose, visiting the earth with light, and heat, 
And joy ; and seemed as full of youth .and strong 
13 



146 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

To mount the steep of he&ven, as when the Stars 

Of morning sung to his first dawn, andjoight 

Fled firom his face ; the spacious eky reSeived 

Him, blushing as a bride, when on her looked 

The bridegroom ; and, spread out beneath his eur 

Eartlvsmiled. Up to his warm embrace, thelfews. 

That all night long had wept his absence, flew -, 

The herbs and flowers their fragrant stores unlocked. 

And gave the wanton breeze that, newly woke^^ " 

ReTelled in sweets, and from its wings shook health,. 

A thousand grateful smells; the joyous woods 

Dried in his beams their locks, wet with the drops ^ 

Of night ; and all the sons of music siing * i 

Their matin song — ^f^om arboured bower, the thrush, 

Ckmcerting with the lark that hymned on high. 

On the green hill the flocks, and in the Tale • 

The herds, rejoiced'; and, light of heart, the -hind 

Eyed amorously the milk-maid as she passed, 

Not heedless', though she looked another way. * 

No sign was' there of change. AH nature moved 
In wonted harmony. Men, as they met, 
In morning salutation, praised the day, 
And talked of common things. The husbandman 
Prepared the soil, and silver-tongued Hope 
Promised another harvest. In the streets, , 

Each wishing to make profit of his neighbour, 
^ Afitchants, assembling, spoke of trying times, 
Of bankruptcies, and markets glutted full , 
Or, crowdmg to the beach, where, to their ear. 
The oath of.ibreign cuicent, and the noise 
Uncouth of trade's rough sons, made music sweet. 
Elate with certain gain, — ^beheld the bark, 
Expected long, enriched with other climes, 
Into the harbour safely steer ; or saw. 
Parting with many a weeping farewell sad, 
And blessing uttered rude, and sacred pledge. 
The rich laden earack, bound to distant shore. 



ka^ 



BOOK VII. 147 



And hopefully talked of her coming back, 
With richer fraught ; or sitting at the desk, 
In calculation deep and intricate 
Of loss and profit balancing, relieved, 
M ia te walsy the irksonniijntfli / wiflfetbeMfht 
Of ntturvi 



. With subtle look, amid his parchments, sat 
The lawyer, weaving hiiT sophistries for court ' 
To meet at mi<JKday. On his weary couch. 
Fat Luxury, sick of the night's debauch. 
Lay groaning, fretful at the obtrusive beam. 
That through his lattice peeped derisively. 
The restle(|8 miser had begun again 
To count his heaps. Before her toilet stood 
'tk^ fair, and, as with guilefrtl skill fhexiecked 
Her loveliness, thought of the comiA|;^Mn, 
, New lovers, or the sweeter nuptial night. 
And evil men, of desperate, lawless life, 
By oatii of deep damnation leagued to ill 
Remorselessly, fled from the face of day, 
Against the innocent their counsel held. 
Plotting unpardonable deeds of blood. 
And villanies of fearfijl magnitude. 
Despots, secured behind a thoiuand bolts, 
The workmanship of fear, forg4<^ chains for man. 
Senates were meeting, statesmen loudly talked 
Of national resources, war and peace," 
And sagely balanced empires soon to end ; 
And faction's jaded minions, by the page 
Paid for abuse and ofl-repeated lies. 
In daily prints, the thorough-fare of news, 
For party schemes made interest, under cloak 
Of liberty, and right, and public weal. 
In holy conclave, bishops spoke of tithes. 
And of the awful wickedness of men. 
Intoxicate with sceptres, diadems. 
And universal rule, and panting hard ' 



1 



148 TUB COURSE OF TIME. 

For fame, heroes were leading on the brave 
To battle. Men, in science deeply read, 
And academic theory, foretold 
Improvements vast ; and learned teeptics proved 
That earth sh6uld with eternity endure — 
Concludpg madly, that there was no God. 

No sign of change appeared : to every man 
That day seemed as the past. £rom noontide path 
The smi looked gloriously on earth, and ail 
Her scenes of giddy folly smiled secure. 
When suddenly, alas, fair Earth ! the sun 
Was wrapped in darkness, and his beams returned 
Up to the throne of Go^, and over all 
The earth came ni^ht, moonless and starless night. 
Mature stood still. The seas aiid rivers stood. 
And all the winds, and every living thing. 
The cataract, that, like a giant wroth, 
Rushed down impetuously, as seized, at once. 
By sudden frost, with all his hoary locks, 
Stood still ; and beasts of every kind stood still. 
A deep and dreadful silence reigned alone ! 
Hope died in every breast, and on all men 
Came fear and trembling. None to his neighbour spoke. 
Husband thought not of wife, nor of her child 
The mother, nor friend of friend, nor foe of foe. 
In horrible suspense all mortals stood ; 
Aiid, «s they stood and listened, chariots were heard; 
Rolling in heaven. Revealed in £aming fire. 
The angel of God appeared in stature vast. 
Blazing, and, lifting up his hand on high, 
By Him that lives for ever, swore, that Time 
Should be no more. Throughout, creation heard 
And sighed ; all rivers, lakes, and seas, and woods, 
Desponding waste, and cultivated vale. 
Wild cave, and ancient hill, and every rock, 
Sighed. Earth, arrested in hein^onted path, 
As ox struck by the lifled axe, when naught 






( 



BOOK vti. 149 

Wm feafed, in aU her entrails deeply gproaned. 
A umTersal crash was heard, as if 
The ribs of Nature broke, and all her dark 
Foundations failed; and deadly paleness sat 
On eyeiy &ce of m^, and every heart 
Grew chill, and every knee his fellow smote. 
None spoke, none stirred, none wept ; for horror Ijn/dld 
All motienless, and fettered eyery tongue. 
Again, o'er all the nations silence fell : 
And, in the heavens, roled in excessive light. 
That drove the thick of darkness far aside. 
And walked with penetration keen, through all 
The abodes of men, another angel stood, *** %. 

And blew the tnunp of God : Awake, ye dead, ^^ 

Be chaqgqil, ye living, and put on the garb 
Of.|BBiiortality. Awake, arise ! — 
The God of judgment comes ! This said the voice^ . 
And Silence, from eternity that slept 
. Beyond the sphere of the creating Word, 
And all the noise of Time, awakened, heard. 
Heaven heard, and earth, and fiirthest hell, through all 
Her regions of despair ; the ear of Death 
Heard, and the sleep that for so long a night 
Pressed on his leaden eyelids, fled ; and all 
The dead awoke, and all the living changed. 

Old men, that on their staff, bending, had leaned, 

Crazy and frail, or sat, boaumbed.with age, 

In weary listlessness, lipe for the grave, 
> Felt through their sluggish veins and withered limbs', 
t^ New vigour flow ; the wrinkled face grew smooth ; 

Upon the head, that Time had razored bare, 

Rose bushy locks ; and as his son in prime 

Of strengUi and youth, the aged father stood. 

Changing herself, the mother saw her son 

Grow up, and suddenly put on the form 

Of manhood ; and the wretch, that begging sat, 
13* 



I 

1 



150 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Iiimblesa, deformed, at comer of the way, 

Unmindful of his crutch, in joint and limb, 

Arose complete ; and he, that on the bed 

Of mortal sickness, worn with sore distress, 

Lay breathing forth his soul to fleath, felt now 

The tide of life and vigour rushing back ; 

And, looking up, beheld his weeping wife, 

And daughter fond, that o'er him, bending, 8to<^d 

To close his eyes. The frantic madman, too, "** 

In whose confused brain reason had lost 

Her way, long driven at random to and froj 

. Grew sober, and hie manacles fell off. 

The newly-sheeted corpse arose, and stared 
On those who dressed it ; and the coffined dead. 
That men were bearing to the tomb, awoke, 
And mingled with their friends ; and armies, which 
The tramp surprised, met in the furious diock 
Of battle, saw the bleeding ranks, new fallen. 
Rise up at once, and to their ghastly cheehi' 
Return the stream of life in healthy flow ; 
And as the anatomist, with all his band 
Of rude disciples, o'er the subject hung, 
. ' And impolitely hewed his way, through bones 
And muscles of the sacred human form. 
Exposing barbarously to wanton gaze, 
The mysteries of natufe, joint embraced 
His kindred joint, the wounded flesh grew up, 
And suddenly the injured man awoke. 
Among their hands, and stood arrayed complete 
In immortality — ^forgiving scarce 

J The insult offered to his clay in death. 

That was the hour, long wished for by the good, 
Of universal Jubilee to all 
The sons of bondage : from the oppressor's hand 
The scourge of violence fell, and from his back, 
Healed of its stripes, the burden of the tlave. 



/• I 



J iiwaviau 



BOOK VII, 151 

The youth of great religious eoul, who nt 
Retired in voluntary loneliness, 
In reverie extravagant now wrapped, " 
Or poring now on book of ancient date, 
With filial awe, and dipping oft his pen 
To write Jmmortal things ; to pleasure deaf, 
And joys of common men, working his way 
With mighty energy, not uninspired. 
Through all the mines of thought; reckless c^pain, 
And weariness, and wasted health, the scoff 
Of Pride, or growl of Envy's hellish brood ; 
While Fancy, voyaged far beyond the bounds 
Of years rerealed, heard many a ful^ja^e age, 
With commwidation loud, repeat hia name, — 
False prophetess ! the day of change was come, — 
Behind the shadow of eternity, 
Hs saw his visions set of earthly fame, 
For ever. set ; nor sighed, while through his veiiis, 
In Ughter current, ran immortal life ; 
His form renewed to undecaying health ; 
To undecaying health, his soul, erewhile 
Not tuned amiss to God's eternal praise. 

AU men in field and city, by the way, 
On land or sea, lolling in gorgeous hall, 
Or plying at the oar ; crawling in rags 
Obscure, or dazzling in embroidered goldj 
Alone, in companies,.&t home, abroad ; 
In wanton merriment surprised and taken, 
Or kneeling reverently in act of prayer ; 
Or cursing recklessly, or uttering lies ; 
Or lapping greedily, from slander's cup. 
The blood of reputation ; or between 
Friendships and brdtherhoods devising strifis ; 
Or plotting to defile a neighbour's bed ; 
In duel met with dagger of revenge ; 
Or casting, on the widow's heritage. 
The eye of covetousness j or, with full hand. 



152 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

On merey'f noiBolefs errands, nnobiMnred, 
Adn^xuatering ; or meditating fraud 
And deeds of horrid barbarous intent -, 
In ftdl pursuit of unexperienced hope, 
Flattering along the flowery path of youth ; 
Or steeped in disappointment's bitterness, 
The fevered cup that guilt must ever drink, 
When parched and fitinting on the road of ill ; 
Beggar and king, the clown and haughty lord ; 
The venerable sage, and empty fop ; 
The ancient matron, and the rosy bride ; 
The virgin chaste, and shrivelled harlot vile ; 
The savage fierce, and man of science, mild ; 
The good and evil, in a moment, all 
Were chastfed, corruptible to incorrupt. 
And movtafto immortal, ne'er to change. 

And now, descending from the bowers of heaven. 
Soft airs o'er all the earth, spreading, were heard. 
And Hallelujahs sweet, the harmony ' 
Of righteous souls that came to repossess 
Their long-neglected bodies ; and anon 
Upon the ear fell horribly the sound 
Of cursing, and the yells of damned despair. 
Uttered by felon spirits, that the trump 
Had summoned from the burning glooms of hell. 
To put their bodies on, reserved for wo. 

Now, starting up among the living changed, 
Appeared innumerous the risen dead. 
£ach particle of dust was claimed : the turf, 
Tor ages trod beneath the careless foot 
Of men, rose, organized in human form ; 
l^he monumental atones were rolled^away ; 
'vChe doors of death were opened; and in the dark 
And loathsome vault, and silent chamel house. 
Moving, were heard the mouldered bones that sought 
Their proper place. Instinctive, every soul 



BOOK VII. 153 

flew to its clayey paxt : from grafls-grown mould, 
The nameless spirit took its ashes up, 
Reanimate ; and, merging from beneath 
The flattered marble, undistinguished rose 
The great, nor heeded once the lavish rhyme, 
And costly pomp of sculptured garnish rain. 
The Memphian mummy, that from age to age, 
Desceniiing, bought and sold a thousand times. 
In hall of curious antiquary stowed. 
Wrapped in mysterious weeds, the wondrous theme 
Of many an erring tale, shook off its rags ; 

le 



»r. 

In vale remote, the hermit rose, surprised 
At crowds that rose around him, where he thooght 
Ij[is slumbers had been single ; and the bard, 
^Who fondly covenanted with his friend, 
( To lay his bones beneath the sighing bough 
^Jpf some old lonely tree, rising, was pressed 
By multitudes that clumed their proper dust 
From the same spot ; and he, that, richly hearsed, 
With gloomy garniture of purchased wo. 
Embalmed, in princely sepulchre was laid, 
Apart from vulgar pien, built nicely round 
And round by the proud heir, who blushed to think 
His father's lordly clay should ever mix 
With peasant dust,-4ftw bj^'his side awake 
The clown that long had slumbered in bis arms. 

The family tomb, to Whose devouring mouth 
Descended sire and son, age after age, 
In long, unbroken, hereditary line. 
Poured forth, at once, the ancient father nide, 
And all his offspring of a thousand years. 
Refreshed from sweet repose, awoke the man 
Of charitable life— awoke and sung : 
And from his prison house, slowly and sad. 
As if unsatisfied with holdmg near 



1 



154 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Commimion with the eutli, the miser drew 

His carcass forth, and gnashed hifttoeth, and howled, 

Unsolaced by his gold and silrer then. 

From nmple stone in lonely wilderness. 

That hoary lay, o'er-lettered by the hand 

Or oft-fireqnenting pilgrim, who had tanght;«^ 

The willow tree to weep, at mom and even,* 

Over the sacred spot^— the martyr saint. 

To song of seraph harp, triumphant, rose, 

Well pleased that he had snared to the death. 

** The clond-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces," 

As song the bard by Ifat(^*s hand andnted. 

In whose capacious giant nombers rolled ^ 

The passions of old Time, fell lumbering down. 

All cities fell, and erery wofk of man. 

And gave their portion forth of hnman dnst, 

Touched by the mortal finger of decay. 

Tree, heib, and flower, and every fowl of heaven, 

And fish, and animal, the wild and tame. 

Forthwith diasfrfving, crumbled into dust. 

Alas ! ye sons of strength, ye ancient oaks, 
Te holy pines, ye elms, and cedars tall. 
Like towers of God, far seen on Carmel mount. 
Or Lebanon, that waved your boughs on high. 
And laughed at all the winds, — ^your hour was come ! 
Te laurels, ever green, and bays, that wont 
To wreath the patriot and the poet's brow ; 
Te myrtle bowers, and groves of sacred shade, 
Where Music ever sung, and Zephyr fimned 
His airy wing, wet with the dews of life. 
And Spring for ever smiled, the fi'agrant haunt 
Of Love, and Health, and ever-dancing Mirth, — 
Alas ! how suddenly your verdure died. 
And oeased your minstrelsy, to sing no more ! 
Te flowers of beauty, penciled by the hand 
Of God, who annually renewed your birth, 
To gem the virgin robes of Nature chaatOy 



t 



BOOK VII. 155* 

Te smiling-featured daughters of the Sun ! 
Fairer than queenly bride, by Jor4an'8 stream 
Leading your gentle M^es, retired, unseen ; 
Or on the^ainted clififs on Zion hill 
Wandering, and holding with the heav|Dly dews. 
In holy revelry, your nightly loves, 
Watched hy the stars, and offering, every morn, 
Tour incense grateful both to God and man '^ — 
Ye lovely gentle things, alas ! no spring 
Shall ever wake you now ! ye withered all, 
All in a moment drooped,, and on your roots 
The grasp of everlasting winter seized ! 
Children of song, ye birds that dwelt in air, 
And stole your notes from angels' lyres, and first 
In> levee of the mom, with eulogy 
Ascending, hailed the advent of the dawn ; 
Or, roosted on the pensive evening bough, 
In melancholy numbers, sung the day 
To rest ; — ^your little wings, failing, dissolved, 
In middle air, and on your harmony 
.Perpetual silence fell ! Nor did his wing, 
/ That sailed in track of «ffMhMRri4ime, and fan ned 
\ The sun, avail the eagle then ; quick smitten^ 
His plumage withered in meridian neight, 
And, in the valley, sunk the lordly bird, 
A clod of clay. Before the ploughman fell 
His steers, and in midway the furrow left. 
The shepherd sawliis flocks around him turn 
To dust. Beneath his rider fell the steed 
To ruins : and the lion in his den 
Grew cold and stiff, or in the furious chase, 
. With timid fawn, that scarcely missed his paws. 
On earth no living thing was seen but men, 
New-changed, or rising from the opening tomb. 

Athens, and Rome, and Babylon, and Tyre, 
And she that sat on Thames, queen of the seas. 
Cities once famed on earth, convulsed through all 



166 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Jheir mighty raini, threw their millions fortt. 

Palmjrra'a dead, where Desolation sat, 

From age to age, well pleased in soUtudei 

And silence, save when trayeller's foot, or o^l 

Of night, or fr^ment mouldering down to diist, 

Broke fidntlj on his desert ear, — awoke. 

And Salem, holy city, where the Prince 

Of Life, by death, a second life secured 

To man, and with him, from the grave, redeemed, 

A chosen number brought, to retinue 

His great ascent on high, and give sure pledge, 

That death was foiled, — her generations, now, 

Gave up, of kings and priests, and Pharisees : 

Nor even the Sadducee, who fondly, said, 

No morn of resurrection e*er should come, 

Could sit the summons ; to his ear did reach 

The trumpet's voice, and, ill prepared for what 

He ofl had proved should never be, he rose 

Reluctantly, and on his facejbegftn 

To burn eternal shame. The cities, too, 

Of old ensepulchred beneath the flood. 

Or deeply slumbering under mountains huge. 

That Earthquake, servant of the wrath of God,. 

Had on their wicked population thrown ; 

And marts of busy trade, long ploughed- and sown, 

By history unrecorded, or the song 

Of bard, yet not forgotten their wickedness. 

In heaven; — poured forth their ancient multitudes, 

That vainly wished their sleep had never broke. 

From battle-fields, where men by millions met 

To murder each his fellow, and make sport 

To kings and heroes, things long since forgot, 

Innumerous armies rose, unbannered all, 

Unpanoplied, unpraised ; nor found a prince, 

Or general, thA, to answer for their crimes. 

The hero's slaves, and all the sbarlet troops 

Of antichrist, and all that fought for rule, — 

Many high'soiinding najnes, familiar once 



9^. 



liooK VII. 167 

On earth, and praised exceedingly, but now 
Familiar most in hell, their dungeon fit, 
Where they may war eternally with God's 
Almighty thunderbolts, and win them pangs * 

Of keener wo, — saw, its they sprung to life. 
The widow and the orphan ready stand. 
And helpless virgin, ravished in their sport. 
To plead against them at the coming Doom. 
The Roman legions, boasting once, how loud ! 
Of liberty, and fighting bravely o'er 
The torrid «nd the firigid zone, the sands 
Of burning Egypt, and the .frozen hills 
Of sno\iry Albion, to make mankind 
Their thralls, untaught thatQ^e who made or kept ' 
(Aslave could ne*er himself be truly firee^ 
That morning, gathered up their dust, which lay 
Wide-scattered over half the globe ; nor saw 
Thei^^eagled banners then. Se\macherib's hosts, 
Embattled once against the sons of Otod, 
With insult bold, quick as the noise of mirth 
And revelry, sunk in their drunken camp. 
When death's dark angel, at the dead of night. 
Their vitals touched, and made each pulse stand still, — 
Awoke in sorrow ; and -the multitudes ^T « 

Of Gog, and all the fated crew that yrfnrj|§ * 
Against the chosen saints, in the lasi^ys, , ^ 

At Armageddon, when the Lord earner diOWB) • 

Mustering his host on Israel's holy lvll»||^ " 
And, firom the treasures of his snow ^d hail. 
Rained terror, and confusion i^ined, knd Stoatli, 
,And gave to all the beasts, and fi)w)8 of heaven, 
Of captains' flesh, and blood of men of war, 
A feast of many days, — revived, and, doomed 
To second death, stood i|l Hamonah's ,vale. 

Nor yet did all that fell iA Wttle rise, 
Hiat day, to wailing. Here imd there were seen ^ 
, The patriot bands that from his guilty thr6ne ^ 

14 



f 



( 



■ < 



158 THE COCKSK OF TIME. 



The deaptA tan, vMhacUed imtiam^ made 

The piiiMSfB icepeet the people's laws, dnyre back 

The ware of proud imraaioii, and reboked • 

The fiantie £117 of the Mohitiide, 

BebeDed, and faagbt and fell fiw liberty 

Rif ht ondentood, true heroes in the speeeh- * 

Qf heaven, where words express the thoughts of him 

Who speaks ; not andistingnished these, thoogh few. 

That mom, arose, with joj and melody. 

An wcke — the north and sooth gave np tbeir dead# 
The caravan, that in mid-joumej sank, 
With all its merchandise, expected long, 
And long fergot, ingulfed beneath the tide 
Qf death, that the wild Spirit of the winds 
Swept, in his wrath, along the wilderness, 
In the wide deserti — woke, and saw all calm 
Aroond, and popiiloas*with risen men : 
Nor of his relicsithoaght the pilgrim then. 
Nor merchant of his silks and spic^ries. 

And he, fer voyaging from home and friends, 
Too curions, with a mortal eje to peep 
Intp the secr^fs of the Pole, ferbid 
By mttore, whbm' fierce Winter seized, and froze 
.To death, and wxapped in winding sheet of ice. 
And song the requiem of his shivering ghost, 
With the kud t>rgan bf his mighty winds, 
And on his memory threw the snow of ages, — 
Felt the loi^-absent wfumth of life retjum, 
And shook the frozen moimtain from his bed« 

All rose, of every age, of every clime. 
Adam and Eve, the great progenitors 
Of all mankind, fair as they seemed, that mom, 
When first they met in Paradise, nnftHen, 
Uncursed^-'from ancient slumber broke, where once 
Euphrates rolled his itream ; and by them stood, 



^A 



BOOK VII. 159 



aM laat pogtetrity^tholif fa jioets subg, "^ 

Blessed sight ! not unobserved by angels, nor 
Unproised, — that day, 'mong men of every tribe «, 

4\nd hue, from those who drank of Tenglio's stream, ^ 

ITo those who nightly saw the Hermit Cross, 
In utmost south retired, — arising, were seen 
The fair and ruddy sons of Albion's land, 
How glad ! — ^not those who travelled far and sailed, 
To purchase human flesh, or wreatlAhe yoke • , 

Of vassalage on savage liberty. 
Or suck large f^tune from the sweat of slaves ; ' 
Or, with refined knavery, to cheat, 
Politely villanoos, untutored men 
Out of tfaeir property ; or gather shells, 
Intagli|ps rude, old pottery, and store 
Of mutilated gods of stone, and scraps 
Of barbarous epitaphs defaced, to be 
Among the learned the theme of warm debate, 
ind infinite conjecture, sagely wrong !^ 
Ril those, denied to self, to earthly fame 
Denied, and earthly wealth ) who kindred left, 
And home, and ease, and all the cultured joys, 
Conveniences, and delicate delights. 
Of rip* society ; ia the great cause 
Of man's salvation, greatly valorous, — 
The warriors of Messiah, messengers 
Of peace, and light, and life; whose eye, unsealed, 
Saw up the path of immortality, - 4 

Far into bliss, saw men, immortal men, ^ 

Wide wandering from the way; eclipsed in night, 
Dark, bsmmIms, moral night ; living like beasts, 
Like beasts descending to the grave, untaught 
Of life to'come, unaanctified, unsaved ; 
Who, strong, though seeming weak ; who, warlike, 
though 



• ,tv» 



>-*«l 



Oy^r, \\p Cfi-V ' .w • « 






160 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Unarmed with bow and tword ; appearing mad, 
« Though sotmder than the schools alone e'er made 

The doctor's head ; devote to God and truth, 
. And sworn ta man's eternal weal, beyond 

Repentance sworn, or thought of turning back ^ 

• And casting far behind all earthly care, ^,, 

* All countryships, all national regards, x ^ 
•And enmities, all narrow bourns of state ^* 
And selfish policy ; beneath their feet 
Treading all fear of opposition down. 
All fear of fianger, of reproach all fear, 

^And evil tongues ;-^ent forth, from Britain went, 

A noiseless band of heavenly soldiery, 

Fmm dtit the armory of God equipped. 

Invincible, to .conquer sin, to blow 

The trump of freedom in the despot's ear. 

To tell the bruted slave his manhood high, 

His birthright liberty, and in his hand 
/To put the writ of manumission, signed 
NBy God's own signature ; to drive away 
/ From earth the dark, infernal legionry « 
\ Of superstition, ignorance, and hell ; 

High on the pagan hills, where Satan saf , 

Encamped, and o'er the subject kingdoms threw 

Perpetual night, to plant Immanuel s cross. 

The ensign of the Gospel, blazing round 

Immortal truth ', and, in the wilderness 

Of human waste, to sow eternal life ; 

And from the rock, where Sin, with horrid yell, 

Devoured its victims unredeemed, to riuse 

The melody of grateful hearts to Heaven : 

To falsehood, truth ; to pride, humility ; 

To insult, meekness ; pardon, to revenge ; * 

To stubborn prejudice, unwearied zeal \ 

To censure, unaccusing minds ; to stripes. 

Long suffering ; to want of all things, hope ; 

To death, assured faith of life to come ; — 

Opposing. These, great worthies, rising, shone { 

\ 



BOOK VII. 161 

Through all the tribes and nations of mankind, 
Like Hesper, glorious once among the stars 
Of twilight, and around them, flockin|r, stood, 
Arcayed in white, the people they had saved. 

Great Ocean ! too, that morning, thou the call ' 
• "Of restitution heardst, and reverently 
To the last trumpet's voice, in silence, listened. 
Great Ocean ! strongest of creation's sons^ * ' -t ^ ' 
( Unconquerable, unreposed, untired, "^ (jl^ ^ J- ^*- "^ * ' 
^ That rolled the wild^ profound, eteriml bass, 
Iq Nature's anthem, and made music, su^ •. .• *' 

As pleased the ear of God ! original, 
Unmarred, jyifaded work of Deity, 
And unburlesqued by mortal's puny skill, • « 

From age to age enduring and unchanged, 
Majestical, inimitable, vast, 
Loud uttering satire, day and night, on each 
Succeeding race, and little pompous work 
Of man !— mifallen, religious, holy Sea ! 
Thou bowedst thy glorious head to none, fearedst none, 
Heards^none, to none didst honour, but to God 
Thy Mdcer, only worthy to receive 
Thy great obeisance ! Undiscovered Sea ! 
Into thy dark, unknown, mysterious caves, 
And secret haunts, unfathomably deep 
Beneath all visible retired, none went. 
And came again, to tell the wonders there. 
Tremendous Sea ! what time thou lifted up 
Thy waves on high, and with thy winds and storms 
Strange pastime took, and shook thy mighty sides 
Indignantly, — the pride of navies fell ; 
Beyond the arm of help, unheard, unseen. 
Sunk friend and foe, with all their wealth and war ; 
And on thy shores,'men of a thousand tribes, 
Polite and barbarous, trembling stood, amased, 
Confounded, terrified, and thought vast thoughts 
Of ruin, boundlessness, omnipotence, 
14* 



162 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Infinitude, ^temity ; anci thought 

And wondered still, and grasped, and grasped, and 
grasped ^ 

Again ; beycmd her reach, exerting all 

The soul, to take thy great idea in, 

To comprehend incomprehensible ; 

And wondered more, and felt their littleness. 

Self-purifying, unpolluted Sea 1' 

Lover lAichangeable, thy faithful breast 

For ever heaving to the lovely Moon, 
t That, like a shy ant^ioly virgin, robed 
Mii saintly whife, waiKed nightly, in the heavens, 

And to the everlasting serenade 

Gave gracious audience ; nor was wooed in vain. 

That morning, thou, that slumbered not before. 

Nor slept, great Ocean ! laid tb|r waves to rest, 

And bushed thy mighty minstrelsy. No breath 

Thy deep composure stirred, no fin, no oar ; 

Like beauty newly dead, so calm, so still. 

So lovely, thou, beneath the light that fell 

From angel-chariots, sentinelled on high. 

Reposed, and listened, and saw thy living changa. 

Thy dead arise. Charybdis listened, and Scylla ; 
'And savage Euxine, on the Thracian beach, 

Lay motionless : and every battle-ship 

Stood still, and every ship of merchandise, 

And all that sailed, of every name, stood still. 

Even as the ship of war, full-fledged, and swifl, 

Like some fierce bird of prey, bore on her foe, 

Opposing with as fell intent, the wind 

Fell withered fVom her wings that idly hung ; 

The stormy bullet, by the cannon thrown 

Iteeitiffly against the heavenly face 

Of men, half sped, sunk harmlessly, and all 

Her loud, uncircumcised, tempestuoife crew, 

How ill prepared to meet their God ! were changed, 

Unchangeable — ^the pilot at the helm 

Was changed, and the rough captain, wliile ho moathed 



BOOK VII. 163 

The huge, enormouB oath. The fisherman, v 
That in )pB boat, expectant, watched his lines, ^ 
Or mended, on the shore his net, and sung, \ 

Happy in thoughtlessness, some careless air, / 
Heard Time depart, and felt the sudden cbang^. 
In solitary deep, far out from land, 
Or steering from the port with many a cheer, 
Or while returning from%ng voyage, fraught 
With lusty wealth, rejoicing to have escaped 
The dangerous main, and plagues of foreign climes, — 
The merchant quafied his native air, refreshed ; 
And saw his native hills, in the sun's liglj^. 
Serenely rise ; and thought of meetings glad, 
And many days of ease and honour, spent 
Among his friends — unwarned man ! even then. 
The knell of Time broke on his reverie, 
And, in the twinkling of an eye, his hopes. 
All earthly, perished all. As sudden rose. 
From out their watery beds, the Ocean's dead. 
Renewed ; and, on the unstirring billows, stood. 
From pole to pole, thick covering all the sea — 
Of eveip nation blent, and every age. 

Wherever slept one grain of human dust, 
Essential organ of a human soul, 
Wherever tossed, obedient to the call 
Of God's omnipotence, it hurried on 
To meet its fellow particles, revived. 
Rebuilt, in union indestructible. 
No atom of his spoils remained to Death. 
From his strong arm, by stronger arm released, 
Immortal now in soul and body bothy 
Beyond lus reach, stood all the sons of men. 
And saw, behind, his valley lie, unfeared. 

O Death ! with what an eye of desperate lust. 
From out thy emptied vaults, thou then didst look 
After the risen multitudes of all 



« * 



^ 



164 Tii£ COURSE OF TIME. 

Mankind ! Ah ! thou hadst been the terror long, 
And murderer, of all of woman bom. ^ 

None could escape thee ! In thy dungeon house, 
Where darkness dwelt, and putrid loathsomeness, 
And fearful silence, yiilkmrnmrnHj still, 
And all of horrible and deadly name, — 
. Thou satst, from age to age, insatiate. 
And drank the blood of men, aifd gorged their flesh, . 
And with thy iron teeth didst grind their bones ^ 
To powder, treading out, beneath thy feet^ 
.Their very names and memories. The blood 
Of nations could not slake thy parched throat. 
No bribe could buy thy favour for an hour. 
Or mitigate thy ever-cruel rage 
For human prey. Gold, beauty, virtue, youth, 
Cven helpless, swaddled innocency, failed 
To soften thy heart of stone ! the in&nt's blood 
Pleased well thy taste, and, while the mother wept, 
Bereaved by thee, lonely and waste in wo, 
<Xlfai^ ^in>»^ndJayia;<w4ffy oug 6 d Jwt''*qe. 

Each son of Adam's family beheld, • 

Where'er he turned, whatever path of life 
He trode, thy goblin form before him stand, 
Like trusty old assassin, in his aim 
Steady and sure as eye of destiny. 
With sithe, and dart, and strength invincible, 
Equipped, and ever menacing his life. 
He turned aside, he drowned himself in sleep, 
In wine, in pleasure ; travelled, voyaged, sought 
Receipts for health from all he met ; betook 
To business, speculate, retired ; returned 
Again to active life, again retired ; 
Returned, retired again ; prepared to die, 
Talked of thy nothingness, conversed of life 
To come, laughed at his fears, filled up the cup^ 
Draidc deep, refrained ; filled up, refrained again ; 
Planned; b^ilt him round with splendour, won applause. 



BOOK VII. 165 

Made large alliances with men aad tlungs, -4 

Read deep in scie&oe and philosophy, 
To fortify his soul ; heard lectures prove 
~ ' The present ill, and future good ; observed 
His pulse beat regular, extended hope ; 

•>~^ Thought, dissipated thought, and thought again ; 
Indulged, abstained, and tried a thousand schemes, 

/ To ward thy blow, or hide thee from his eye ', 

But still thy gloomy terr^^s, dipped in sin, 
/ Before him frowned, and withered all his joy. 

Still, feared and hated thing ^ thy ghostly shape 
-Stood in his avenues of faii^en hope ; 
Unmannerly and uninvited, crept 
Into his haunts of most select delight. 
Still, on his halls of mirth, and banqueting, 
And revelry, thy shadowy hand was seen 
Writing thy name of— Death. Vile worm, that gnawed 
,. The root of all his faappuiesB terrene, the gall 
Of all his sweet, the them of every rose 
Of earthly bloom, cloud ^his noon-day ^y> 
Frost of his spring, sigh of his loudest laugh^ 
Dark spot on every form of loveliness, 
Rank smell amidst his rarest spiceries, 
(Htirsh dissonance of all his harmony, 
Reserve of every promise, and the if 
Of all to-morrows ! — now, beyond thy vale, 
Stood all the ransomed lAiltitude of men, 
Immortal all : and, in theit visions, saw 
Thy visage grim no more. Great payment day ! 
OC all thou ever conquered, none was left 
In thy unpeopled realms,' so populous once. 
He, at whose girdle hang the keys of death, 
And life, not bought but with the blood of Him 
Who wears, the eternal Son of God, that mom, 
Dispelled the cloud that sat so long, so thick, 
So heavy o'er thy vale ; opened all thy doors, 
Unopened before ; and set thy prisoners free. 
Vain was resistance, and to follow vain. 



166 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

In Hky anveiled caves, and solitudes 
Of dark and dismal emptiness, iHoa satst, 
Rolling thy hollow eyes, disabled thing ! 
Helpless, despised, nnpitied, and unfeared, 
Like some fallen tyrant, chained in sight of all 
The people ; from thee dropped thy pointless dart, 
Thy terrors withered all, thy ministers, 
Annihilated, fell before thy face, 



Nor yet, sad monster ! wast thou left alone. 
In thy dark dens some phantoms still remained, — 
Ambition, Vanity, and earthly Fame, 
Swollen Ostentation, meagre Avarice, 
Mad Superstition, smooth Hypocrisy y<^ 
And Bigotry intolerant, and Fraud, 
And wilful Ignorance, and sullep Pride, 
Hot Controversy, and the subtle ghost 
Of vain Philosophy, and w'orldly Hope, 
And sweet-lipped, hoUow-heartfd Flattery. , 
All these, great personages once on earth, 
And not unfoUowed, nor unpraised, were left. 
Thy ever-unredeemed, and with thee driven 
To Erdbus, through whose uncheered wastes, 
' Thou mayest chase them, with thy broken sithe 
4 Fetching vain strokes, to all eternity, 
Unsatisfied, as men who, in theWays 
Of Time, their unsubstantial forms pursued. 



THE . 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK VIIL 



RsAiriM ATED, noTKii^and dressed in robes 
Of everlasting wear> in the last paifte 
Of expectation, stood the human race, 
Buoyant in air, or covering shore and sea. 
From east to West, thick as ^he eared grain,. * 
In golden autumn wavetj^from fie|^ to field^ 
Profuse, by Nilus' fertile wave, while yet 
Earth was, and men were in her valleys seen^ 

Still, all was calm in 6eaven. Nor yet appeared* 
The Judge, nor aught appeared, save here and there^ 
On wing of golden plumage borne at will, 
A curious angel, that frolki out the skies 
Now glanced a look cm man, and then retired. 
As calm was all on earth. The ministers 
Of God's unflparing vengeance, waited, still 
Unbid. No sun, no moon, no star, gave light.. 
A blessed and holy radiance, travelled! &r 
From day original, fell on the face 
Of men, and every countenance reveaHsd-; 
Unpleasant to the bad, whose visages 
Had lost all guise of seeming happinoflfl,. 
With which on earth sooh pains they took to hide 
Their misery in. On their grim ieatmtesy now 



166 Tifte COURSE OP TIME. 

llie plain, nnyisored index of the soul, 
The true, nntampered witness of the heart, 
No smile of hope, no look of vanity 
Beseeching for applause, was seen ; no scowl 
Of self-important, all-despiidng pride. 
That once upon the poor and needy fell, 
Like winter on the unprotected flower, 
Withering their very heing to decay. 
No jesting mirth, no wanton leer, was seen, 
No sullen lower of braggart fortitude 
Defying pain, nor anger, nor reyenge ; 
But fear instead, and terror, and remorse ; 
And chief, on» passion, to its answering, shaped 
The features of the damned, and in itself 
Summed all the re£[t, — ^unutterable 'flbspair. 

What on the righteous shone of foreign light, 
Was all redundant day, they needed not. 
For as, by nature, Sin is dark, an^ loves 
The dark, still hiding from itMf in gloom, 
And in the darkest hell is still itself 
The darkest hell, and the severest wo, 
Where all is wo ; so Virtue, ever fair ! 
Doth by a sympathy as strong as binds 
Two equal hearts, weU pleased in wedded love, 
For ever seek the Hght, for ever seek 
All fair and lovely things, all oeauteous forms, 
All images of excellence and truth ; 
And from her own essential being, pure 
As flows the fount of life that spirits drink, 
Doth to herself give light, nor from her beams. 
As native to her as her own existence, 
-Can be divorced, nor of her glory shorn, — 
Which now, from every feature of the just. 
Divinely rayed, yet not from all alike ; 
In measure, equal to the soul's advance 
In virtud, was the lustre of the fiu^. 



f 



•* 



i 



BOOK vin. ' * 169 

It was a strange assembly : hone, of all 
That congregation vast, c<^uld recollect 
Aught like it in the history of man. ^ 

No badge of outward state was seen, no mark 
Of age, or rank, or national attire. 
Or roba professional, or air of trade. 
Untitled, stood the man that once was called 
My lord, unserved, unfollowed ; and the mai» 
Of tithes, right reverend in the dialect 
Of Time addressed, ungowned, unbenelficed, . 
Uncorpulent ; nor now, from him who bore, 
With ceremonious gravity of step. 
And face of borrowed holiness o'erlaid. 
The ponderous book before the awful priest. 
And opened and shut the pulpit's sacred gates 
In style of wonderful observancy 
And reverence excessive, in the beams 
Of sacerdotal splendour lost, or if «> 

Observed, comparison ridiculous scarce 
Could save the little, poftipous, humble man 
From laughter of the people, — not from him 
Could be distinguished then the priest untithed. 
None levees held, those marts where princely smiles 
Were sold for flattery, and obeisance mean. 
Unfit firom man to man ; none came or went, 
None wtshotl to draw attention, none was poor, 
None rich, none young, none old, deformed none ; 
None sought for place or favour, none had aught 
To give, none could receive, none ruled, none served ; 
No king, no subject was ; unscutcheoned all, / 
Uncrowned, implumed, unhelmed, unpedigreed, 
Unlaced, uncoroneted, unbestarred. 
Nor coun^yman was seen, nor citizen ]^ 
Republican, nor bwBUe advocate .{■">•• 
Of monarchy ; nor idol worshipper, 
Nor beaded papist, nor Mahometan ; 
I^>iscopalian none, nor presbyter ; 
>^or£*dlfeieran, nor Calvinist, nor Jew, 
15 



170 mmM coubsb op timk. « ^ 

Nor Greek, nor aeetaiy'of any name. 
Nor, of thoee persons, that loud title Ihx«^ 
Most lugfa and mig htf, most magnificent. 
Most potent, most angust, mort worahqtfal. 
Most eminent, words of great pomp, that pleaiMI* 
The ear oTTanity, and made the worms 
Of earth mistake themseWes for gods^ — conid one 
Be seen, |ii«bum these phrases obsolete. 

It was a congregation vast of men. 
Of nnappendaged and unTamished men, 
Of phun, nnceremooioiis human beings, 
Of all btit moral character bereaved. 
Hii vice or yirtoe, now, to each remained, 
Alone. AU else, with their grave-clothes, men ^bd - 
Pat off, as badges worn b^ mortal, not 
Immortal man ; alloy that could Hot pass 
The scrutiny of Death's refining fires ; 
Dost of Time's wheels, by multitudes pursued 
Of fools that shouted^-Gold ! fidr painted finit. 
At which the ainbitious idiot jumped, while men 
Of wiser mood immortal harvests reaped ; 
Weeds of the human garden, sprung from earth's 
Adulterate soil, unfit to be transplanted. 
Though by the moral botanist, too oft, 
For plants of heavenly soed mistaken and nursed ; 
Mere chaff, that Virtue, tfben she rose from earth. 
And waved, her wings to gain her native heights, 
Drove from the verge of being, leaving Vice 
Ho milk to hide her in ; base-bom of Time, 
In which God claimed no property, nor had 
Prepared for them a place in heaven or heU. 
Yet did these vain distinctions, now forgot, 
Bulk largely in the filmy eye of Time, 
And were exceeding fair, and kved to death 
Immortal souls. But they were pasted, for all 
Ideal now was passed ; reality 
Alone remained ', and good and b«d| redeemed 



I 



/ 



- - BOOK VIII. * *" 171 

And unredeemed, distinguished sole the sons 
Of men. Each, to his proper self reduced, 
And undisguised^ waff what his seeming showed. 

The man of earthly fame, whom conunon men 
Made boast of having seen, who scarce coulS pass * 
The ways qf Time, for eageir crowds that pressed 
To do him homage, and pursued his ear -J* -• 
With endless praise, for deeds unpraised ahove, 
And yoked their bruta]«natures, honoured much 
To drag his chariot on, — unnoticed stood. 
With none to praise him, none to flatter there. 

• ^^shing and dumb, that morning, too, was seen * 
The mighty reasoner, he who deeply searched 
.T'he origin of things, and talked of good 
And evil, much, of causes and effects, 
! Of mind and matter, contradicting all 
: That went before him, and himself, the while. 
/ ^ /) 7<rjrhe laughing-stock of angelsj diving far * 
^^*^**^ f • Belbw his depth, to fetch reluctant proof. 
That he himself was mad and wicked too, 
V When, proud and ignorant man, he meant to prove 
That God had made the universe amiss, 
) '*' And sketched a better plan. Ah ! foolish sage ! 

\ . He could not trust the word of Heaven, nor see 

The light which from the Bible blazed, — ^that lamp 
' Which God threw from his palace down to earth, 

', To guide his wandering children home, — ^yet leaned 

His cautious faith on speculations wild^ 
; And visionary theories absurd, 
Prodigiously, deliriously absurd, 
Compared with which, the most erroneous flight 
That poet ever took when warm with wine, 
Was moderate conjecturing : he saw, 
Weighed in tlte balance of eternity. 
His lore how light, and wished, too late, that he 
Had staid at home, and learned to know himself, 



172 Vn COCBSB OP TISU. 



witfiMBHlgdid, 

Aad BMSC obcjcd. Hoc Icm lie gnewied Ins 

Wlio fnrelfed frr tkniiig;ii laadi of bortOe 

Aad «lmgcro«M hilwhitant, to 6k 

The bwmdxf e aipiiM pif i l, aad Meertoi 

The bmial-^aee of heroes, merer fa otn ; 

DcepMBg jiigif nt. thinga, aai^ fiitore too. 

And gnfing m the daik vnaearciiaUe 

Of finkiied yean^ — by dreary ruins seen. 

And dungeons damp, and rmaiStM of ancient 

With spade and mattorkj delving deep to 

Old i^aaes and Afluembered idi^ rude ; 

With matchlesi p e ise r er ance, spelling out 

Words without sense. Poor man! he dapped 

Enraptured, when he lonnd — niiinsfri|K 

That ipdke of pagan gods; and yet lorgoC 

The God wiio made the sea and sky, alas ! 

Forgot that trifling was a sin ; stored much 

Of dubious atufl^ but laid no treasure up 

In heaven ; on mouldered columns scratdied his name. 

But ne'er inscribed it in the book of lift. 

Unprofitable seemed, and nmqyprored. 
That day, the sullen, seU^yindictire lifii 
Of the recluse. With crucifixes hung. 
And qwlls, and rosaries, and wooden saints, 
Like one of reason reft, he journeyed fiirth. 
In show of miserable poverty, 
And chose to beg,— as if to live on sweat 
Of other men, had promised great reward ; 
On his own flesh inflicted cruel wounds. 
With naked ibot embraced the ice, by the hour 
Said mass, and did most grievous penance vile ; 
-And then retired to drink the filthy cup 
Of secret wickedness, and ftbricate 
An lying wonders, by the untaught received 
For rerelations new. Deluded wretch ! 



Ni 






/ 



BOOK Vlll. 17a 

Did he not know, that the most Holy One 
/Reqaired a cheerfiil life and holy heart? 

/ Most disappointed in that crowd of men, 
rThe man of subtle controversy stood, • 
[ The bigot theologian, in minute 
I Distinctions skilled, and doctrines unreduced 
' To practice ; in debate how loud ! how long ! 
How dexterous \ in Christian love how cold ! 
i^^is Tain conceits were orthodox alone. 
^'^ The immutable and heavenly truth, revealed 
j By God, was naught to him. He had an art, 
; A kind of hellish charm, that made_theti2S 
i Of truth speak falsehood, tftJiiai liking turned 
\ l%iSneaiung of thie text^ ?^?de trifles seem 
' The marrow of salvation ; to a word, * 
I A name, a sect, that sounded in the ear, 
I And to the eye so many letters showed, 
I But did no more, — ^gave value infinite ; 
Proved still his reasoning best, and his belief, 
Though propped on fancies wild as madmen's dreams, 
Mopt rational, most scriptural, most sound ; 
With mortal heresyMenouncing all 
Who in his arguments cottd see no force. 
On points of faith, too fine for human sight, 
AncTnever understood ii^heaven,jhe placed • 
' His everlasting hope, undoubting placed, 
\^ ' And died ; and, when he opened his ear, prepared 
To hear, beyond the grave, the minstrelsy 
Of bliss, he heard, alas ! the wail of wo. 
He proved all creeds fklse but his own, and found, 
At last, his own moet false — ^most false, because 
He spent his time to prove all others so. 

O love-destroying, cursed Bigotry ! 
Cursed in heaven, but cursed more in hell. 
Where millions curse thee, and must ever curse^l 
Religion's most abhorred ! perdition's most - ' 

15 • 



174 THE COUBSB OF TIME. 

Forlorn ! God's most atwndoned ! hell's most damned ! 
The infidel, who turned his impious war 
Against the walls of Zion, on the rock 
Of ages boilt, and higher than the clouds, 
Sinned, and received his due reward ; bat she 
Within her walls sinned more. Of Ignorance 
Begot, her daughter, Persecution, walked 
The earth, firom age to age, and drank the blood 
Of saints, with horrid relish |m^tiMriil0d 

(And in her drunkenness dreamed of doing good^ 
The supplicating hand of innocence, 
That made the tiger mild, and in his wrath 
The lion pause, the groans of suffering most 
Severe, were naught to her ; she laughed at groans** • 
No music pleased her more, and no repast 
So sweet to her, as blood of men redeemed 
Bf blood of Christ. Ambition's self, though mad, 
And nursed on human gore, with her compared, 
V ' Was mercifvl. Nor did she always rage. 
She had some hours of meditation, set 
Apart, wherein she to her study went, 
The Inquisition, model jnost complete 
Of perfect wickedness, whef« deeds were done, — . 
Deeds ! let them ne'er be named, — and sat and planned 
Ueliberately, and with most musing pains, 
How, to eztremest thrill of agony. 
The flesh, and blood, and souls of holy men, 
Her victims, might be wrought ; and when she saw 
New tortures of her labouring fancy bom, 
She leaped for joy,' and made great haste to try 
Their force — ^weU pleased to hear a deeper groan. 

But now her day of mirth was passed, and come 
Her day to weep, her day of bitter groans, 
And sorrow unbemoaned, the day of grief 
And wrath retributory poured in full 
On all that took her part. The mfm of sin. 



fc» 



BOOK'VIII. 176 

The myBtery of iniquity, her friend 

Sincere, who pardoned sin, unpardoned still, 

And in the name of God blasphemed, and did 

All wicked, all abominable things, 

Most abject stood, that day, by devils hissed. 

And by ihe looks of those he murdered, scorched ; 

And plagued with inward shame, that on his cheek 

Burned, while his votaries, who left the earth, 

Secure of bliss, around him, undeceived, 

Stood, undeceivable till then ; and knew, 

Too late, him fallible, themselves accursed, 

And all their passports and certificates, 

A lie : nor disappointed more«aor more 

Ashamed, the Mussulman, wne^ h^ tew^^ash 

lfi»4ynrti uimI wail, wiom he exf^cfted judge. 

All these were damned for bigotry, wei^ damned, 

Because they thought, that they alone served God, 

And served him most, when most they disobeyed.* « 

Of' those forlorn and sad, thou mightst have marked. 
In number most innumerable, stand 
The indolent ; too lazy these to make 
Inquiry for themselves, they stuck their faith 
To some well-fatted priest, %ith offerings bribed 
To bring them oracles of peace, and take 
Into his management all the concerns 
Of their eternity ; managed how well 
They knew, that day, and might have sooner known, 
That the commandment was. Search, and believe 
In Me, and not in man ; who leans on him 
Leans on a broken reed, that wiU impierce 
The trusted side. I am the way, the truth. 
The life, alone, and there is none besides. 

This did they read, and yet ref\ised to search, 
To search what easily was fbund, and, found. 
Of price uncountable. Most foolish, they 
Thought Ood with ignorance pleased, and blinded &ith. 



176 THE COUBSB OF TIME. 

That took not root in rewKm, purified 
With holy influence of hie Spirit pure. 
80, on they walked, and stumbled in the light 
Of noon, becanse they would not open their eyes. ' 

Effect how sad of sloth ! that made them risk 
Their piloting to the eternal shore, 
/To one who could mistake the lurid flash 
(Of hell for heaven's true star, rather than bow 
\The knee, and by one fervent word obtain 
^i|is guidance sure, who calls the stars by name. 
They prayed by proxy, and at second hand * 

Believed, and slept, and put repentance off. 
Until the knock of death awoke them, when 
They saw their ignorance both, and him they paid 
To bargain of their eouls 'twixt them and God, 
Fled, and began ^pentance without end. 

How did they wish, that moraing, as they stood ^ 

With blushing covered, they had ibr themselves 
^ift Scripture searched, had for themselves believed, 
And made acquaintance with the Judge ere then ! 

Great day of termination to the joys 
Of sin ! to joys that grew on mortal boughs, 
On trees whose seed fell not^om heaven, whose top 
Reached not above the clouds. From such, alone, 
The epicure took all his meals. In choice 
Of morsels for the body, nice he was, 
And scrupulous, and knew all wines by smell 

Or taste, and every composition knew 1 

Of cookery ; but grossly drank, unskilled, I 

The cup of spiritual pollution up, 1 

That sickened his soul to death, while jftf^Mtamev 
MHSilMI>wMMblr His feelings were his guide. 
He ate, and drank, and slept, and took all joys, 
Forbid and unforbid, as impulse urged 
Or appetite, nor asked his reason why. 
He said, he followed Nature still, but lied ; 
' For she was temperate and chaste, he fUll 



: 



BOOK vin. 177 

Of wine and all adultery ; her fiice 
Was holy, moet unholy his ; her eye 
Was pure, his shot unhallowed fire ; her lips 
^Sang praise to God, his uttered oaths profane ; 
Iter breath was sweet, his rank with foul debauch. 
Yet pleaded he a kind and feeling heart. 
Even when he left a neighbour's bed defiled. 
Like migratory fowls, that flocking sailed 
From isle to isle, steering by sense alone, 
Whither the clime their liking best beseemed ; 
So he was guided, so he moved through good 
And evil, right and wrong, but, ah ! to fiite 
All different: they slept in dust, unpained; 
He rose, that day, to sufier endless pain. 

Cured of his unbelief, the sceptic stood, » 

Who doubted of his being while he breathed, f ^ ! 
Than whom gl ossog ra ph y itself, that spoke *«r • ' « ' 
Huge fi)lios of nonsense every hour. 
And left, surrounding every page, its marks 
Of prodigal stupidity, scarce more 
Of folly raved. The tyrant too, who sat 
In grisly council, like a spider couched. 
With ministers of locust countenance. 
And made alliances to rob mankind, 
And holy termed, — for still, beneath a name 
Of pious sound, the wicked sought to veil 
Their crimes, — ^forgetftil of his right divine, 
Trembled, and owned oppression was of heU ; 
Nor did the uncivil robber, who unpursed 
The traveller on the high-way, and cut 
His throat, anticipate severer doom. 

In that assembly there was one, who, while 
Beneath the sun« aspired to be a fool ; 
In different ages known by different names. 
Not worth repeating here. Be this enough : 
With scrupulous eaxe exact, he walked the rounds 




178 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Of fiishionable datj, Uuglied when sad; 
When merry, wept ; deceiying, was deceWed ; 
And flattering, flattered. Fashion was his god. 
Obseqnioosly he fell belbre its shrine, ^ ^ 

In slavish plight, and tremhled to offend. ^ • J 

If graveness suited, he was grave ; if else, \ 

He travailed sorely, and made brief repose, *\ 

To work the proper qaatttity of sin. 
In all submissive, to its chuiging shape. 
Still changing, girded he his vexed firame, 
And laughter made to men of sounder head. 
Most circumspect he vras of bows, and nods, 
And salutations ; and most seriously 
And deeply meditated he of dress ; 
And in his dreams saw lace and ribbons fly. 
His soul was naught ; he damned it, every day. 
Unceremoniously. Oh ! fool of fools ! 
.Pleased wi^ a painted smile, he fluttered on. 
Like fly of gaudy plume, by facdiion driven. 
As faded leaves by Autumn's wind, till Death 
(put forth his hand, and drew him out of sight. 
Oh ! fool of fools ! polite to man ; to God 
Most rude : yet had he many rivals, who, 
Age after age, great striving made to be 
Ridiculous, and to forget they had 
Immortal souls, that day r^embered well. 

As meftil stood his other half, as wan 
Of cheek. Small her ambition was, but strange. 
The distaff, needle, all domestic cares. 
Religion, children, husband, home, were things 
She could not bear the thought of, bitter drugs 
That sickened her soul. The house of wanton mirth 
And revelry, the mask, the dance, she loved, 
And in. their service soul and body spent 
Most cheerfully. A little admiration, 
Or true or false, no matter which, pleased her, 
And o'er the wreck of fortune lost, and healthy 



II. 



. -y 



jTl 



BOOK VIII* 179 

And peace, and Yu eternity of bliss . 
Lost, made her sweetly smile. She was convinced, 
^hat God had made her greatly o«l of taste ; 
And took much pains to make herself anew^ 
Bedaubed with paint, and hung with ornaments 
Of curious selection, gaudy toy ! ' 
A show unpaid for, paying to be seen ! 
j As beggar by the way, most hmnbly asking 
[ The alms of public gaze, — she went abroad. 
': Folly admired, and indication gave 
' Of envy, cold Civility made bows^ 
! And smoothly flattered. Wisdom shook his head, 
' And Laughter shaped his lip into a smile ; 
Sobriety did stare. Forethought grew pale. 
And Modesty hung down the head and blushed, 
And Pity wept, as, on the frothy surge ' 

Of fashion tossed, she passed them by, like sail 
Before some devilish blast, and got no time 
To think, and never thought, till on the rock ^ 

She dashed, of ruin, anguish, and despair. 

O how unlike this giddy thing in Time ! 
And at the day of judgment how unlike. 
The modest, meek, retiring dame ! Her house 
Was ordered well, her children taught the way 
Of life, who, rising up in honour, called 
Her blessed. Be^t pleased to be admired at home. 
And hear, reflected from her husband's praise, 
Her own, she sought no gaze of foreign eye ; 
His praise alone, and faithfvl love, and trust 
Reposed, was happiness enough for her. 
Yet who, that saw her pass, and heard the poor 
With earnest benedictions on her steps 
Attend, could from obeisance keep his eye, 
Or tongue from due applause ! In virtue fliir, 
Adorned with modesty, and matron grace 
Unspeakable, and love, her face was like 
The light, most welcome to the eye of mvt } 



180 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Refreshing most, most honoured, most desired, 

Of all he saw in the dim world below. 

As Morning when lAe shed her golden locks, 

And on the de^vy top of Hermon walked, 

Or Zion hill ; so glorious was her path. 

Old men beheld, and did her reverence, 

And bade their daughters look, and take from her 

Example of their future life ; the young 

Admired, and new resolve of virtue made. 

id none who was her husband asked ; his air 
Serene, and countenance of joy, the sign 
Of inward satisfaction, as he passed 
^he crowd, or sat among the elders, told, 
tn holiness complete, and in the robes 
Of saving righteousness, arrayed for heaven, 
/^How fair, that day, among the fair, she stood ! 
vHow lovely on the eternal hills her steps ! 

Restored to reason, on that mom, appeared 
The lunatic, who raved in chains, and asked 
No mercy when he died. Of lunacy, 
Innumerous were the causes ; humbled pride, 
Ambition disappointed, riches lost, 
% And bodily disease, and sorrow, oft 
By man inflicted on his brother man ; 
Sorrow that made the reason drunk, and yet 
Left much untasted — so the cup was filled ; 
Sorrow that, like an ocean, dark, deep, rough, 
And shoreless, rolled its billows o'er the soul 
Perpetually, and without hope of dud. 

Take one esuimple, one of female wo. 
Loved by a father and a mother's love, 
In rural peace she lived, so fair, so light 
Of heart, so good, and young, that reason, scarce, 
The eye could credit, but would doubt^ as die 
Did stoop to pull the lily or the rose 
From morning's dew, if it reality 



4^ 



BOOK VIII. 



hi 



Of flQsh and blood, or holy vision, saw, 

In imagery of perfect womanhood. 

But Aort her bloom, her happiness waa. shptt. 

Ohe saw her loveliness, and, with desire 

Unhallowed, burning, to her ear addressed '^ 

Dishonest words : " Her favour was his life. 

His heaven ; her frown his wo, his night, his death." 

With turgid phrase, thus wove in flattery's loom, vf 

He on her womanish nature won, and age 

SlispicionlesB, and ruined, and forsook. 

For he a chosen villain was at'^eart, 

And capable of deeds that durst not seek ^ 

Repentance. Soon her father saw her shame, 

His heart jggew^stoge, he drove her forth to want 

And wintry windfl, and with a horrid curse 

Pursued her ear, forbidding all return. 

Upon a hoary cliff, that watched the sea, 
Her babe was found — dead.' On its litt}e cheek, 

tear that nature bade it weep, had turned • 

icch-drop, sparkling in the morning beam ; 

tc^ the turf its helpless hands were frozen. 
For shie, the woful mother, had gone mad, ^ « 

And laid ii down, regardless of its fate 
And of her own. Yet iMui she many days 
Of soiirow in the world, but never wept. 
She lived on alms, and carried in her hand 
Some withered stalks she gathered in the spring. 
When any asked the cause, she smiled and said, ^ 

They were her sistedrs, and would come and watch jH 

Her grave when she was dead. She never spoke 
Of her deceiver, &ther, mother, home, 
Or child, or heaven, or hell, or God, h|gtttill 
In lonely places walked, and ever gazHjJlF 
Upon the withered stalks, and talked to them ; 
Till, wasted to the shadow of her youth, 
With wo too wide to see beyond, die died — 
Not unatoned for by imputed blood, 

16 m-' ' 




# 1 
»• < 



• ♦ 



182 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

1*^ - Nor by the Spirit, that mysterious works, 

. •' » tfesanctified. Aloud, her father cursed, 

•" ' * j^mr * ^* *^^y> ^ g^lty pride, which would not own • 

^ A daughter, whom the God of heayen and earth 

Was not ashamed to call his own ; and he, 
Who ruined her, read from her holy look, 
• J. 'That pierced him with perdition manifold, ' '* 
^ Hi* sentence, burning with vindictive fire. 
> 

The judge that took a bribe ; be who amis0 
Pleaded the widow's cause, and by delay 

* " Delaying ever, made the law at night 

' More intricate than at the dawn, and on 
The morrow farther from a close, than when 
The sun last set, till he who in the suit 
. Was poorest, by his emptied coffers, proved 
His cause the worst ; |ind he that had the bag 
Of weights deceitful, and the balance false ; 
And he that with a fraudful lip deceived 

"" In buying or in selling ; — these, that mom, 

Found custom no excuse for sin, and knew • 
Plain dealing was a virtue, but too late. 
And^ that was supposed to do nor good 
Nor ill, surprised, could find no neutral ground, 
And learned, that to do nothftg was to serve 
The devil, and transgress the laws of God. 
The noisy quack, that by profession lied. 
And uttered falsehoods of enormous size. 
With countenance as grave as truth beseemed ; 
^' And he that lied for pleasure, whom a lust 

Of being heard and making people stare, 
And a most steadfast hate of silence, drove 
Far wide f^ff^fglf^^ truth, who never took 
The pains t^uiink of what he was to say. 
But still made haste to speak, with weary tongue, 
Like copious stream for ever flowing on ; — 
Read clearly in the lettered heavens, what, long 
Before, they might have read, For every word 



4' 



' » 



• V 

\ 



• BOOK VUI. » ,* 183 

dl 

Of folly, yen, this day, shafi give account ; * ^ 

And every liar shall his portiim have ^. 

Among the cursed, without th» gates of lii^. -. ^ 

With groans that made no pause, lamenting there ^ > * 

Were seen the duellist and suicide. 

This thought, but thought amiss, that of himself 

He was entire proprietor j and so, 

When he was tired of Time, with his own hand, 

He opened the portals of Eternity, 

And sooner than the devils hoped, arrived 
/Aju' (in heiy The other, of resentment quick, 

And, for a word, a look, a gesture, deemed 

Not scrupulously exact in a^l respect, 

Prompt to revenge, went to the cited field. 

For double murder armed, his own, and his 

That as himself he was ocdained to love. 

The first, in pagan books of early times, 

Was herobm pronounced, and greatly praised. 

In fashion's glossary of later days, 

The last was honour called, and spirit high. 

Alas ! 'Iwas mortal spirit, honour which 

Forgot to wake at the last trumpet's voice, 
^Bearing the signature of Time alone, 
\pncurrent in Etemky, and base. 

Wise men suspected this before ; for they 

Could never understand what honour meant. 

Or why that should be honour termed, which made. •* 

Man murder man, and broke the laws of God ** 

Most wantonly. Sometimes, indeed, the grave. 

And those of Christian creed imagined, spoke 

Admiringly of honour, lauding much 

The noble youth, who, after many rounds 

Of boxing, died ; or, to the pistol shot 

His breast exposed, his soul to endless pain. \ 

But they who most admired, and understood ^ 

T\uB honour best, and on its altar laid e 

Their lives, most obviously were fools ; and, what 



184 ^ THE COURSE OF TlllE. 

. Fools only, and the wicked, understood, 
The wise a|;reed was some i&lttsive Shade, 
That with tlfb mist of time shoold disappe)ur. 


Great day of revelation ! in the grave 
The hypocrite had left his mask, and stood ir " 

> In naked ugliness. He was a man 

• ^ Who stole the livery of the court of heaven. 

To serve the devil in ; in virtue's guise, 
l>evoured the widow's house and orphan's bread ; 
*^ In holy phrase, transacted villanies 

That common sinners dUrst not meddle with. 
At sacred feast, he sat among the saints. 
And with his guilty hands touched holiest things : 
And none of sin lamented more, or sighed 
More deeply, or with graver countenance. 
Or longer prayer, wept o'er the dying man, 
Whose in&nt children, at the moment, -he 
Planned how to rob. In sermon style he bought. 
And sold, and lied ; and salutations made 
* In Scripture terms. He prayed by quantity/ 

And with his repetitions long and loud, 

'"^ All knees were weary. With one hand he put 

A penny in the urn of poverty. 
And with the other took a shilling out. 
On charitable lists, — those trumps which told 
The public ear, who had in secret done ' 
The poor a benefit, and half the alms 
They told of, took themselves to keep them sounding, — - 
He blazed his name, mord pleased to have it there 

I " Than in the book of life. Seest thou the man ! 

A serpent with an angol's voice ! a grave 
• With flowers bestrewed ! and yet few were deceived. 
His virtues being over-done, his face 
Too grave, his prayers too long, his charities 
Too pompously attended, and his speech 
Larded too frequently and out of time 
With «eriouB phraseology, — ^were rents 






BOOK Vllt. 



% lib 



That in hiB garments opened in spite of hinif ■ 

Thiough which the well-accustomed eye coukl vee 
^*he rotteaness of his heart. None deeper blushed. 
As in the all-piercingf light he stood, exposed^ 
No longer herding with the holy ones. 
-^S'^t still he tried to bring his countenance 
To sanctimonious seeming ; but, meanwltile, 
The shame within, now visible to all, 
His purpose balked. The righteous smiled, and even 
Despair itself some signs of laughter gaye, 
As ineffectually he strove tawipe 
His brow, that inward guiltiness defiled. » 

Detected wretch! of all the reprobate. 
None seemed maturer for the flames of hell, 
Where still his face, from ancient custom, wears 
A holy air which says to all that pass 
Him by, *' I was a hypocrite on earth." 

That was the hour which measured out to each, 
Impartially^ his share of reputation. 
Correcting all mistakes, and from the name 
Of the good man all slanders wiping off. 
Good name was dear to all. Without it, none 
Could soundly sleep, even on a royal bed, 
Or drink with relish from a^up of gold ; 
And with it, on his borrowed straw, or by 
The leafless hedge, beneath the open heavens, 
. The weary beggar took untroubled rest. 
It was a music of most heavenly toiie. 
To which the heart leaped joyfully, and all 
The spirits danced. For honest fame, men laid 
Their heads upon the block' and, while the axe 
Descended, looked and smiled. It was of price 
Invaluable. Riches, health, repose, ^ * 

Whole kingdoms, life, were given for it, and he 
Who got it was tiie winner still ; and he 
Who sold it durst not open his eiir, nor look 
On human face, h9 knew himself senile. 
16* 



: 



1^ THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Tet it, with all its precioumeis, was due 
To Virtuo, and around her should hare shed, 
Unasked, its savoury smell ; but Vice,, deforme^ 
Itself, and ugly, and of flayour rank, 
To rob fifcir Virtue of so sweet an incense » 
And with it to anoint and salve its own 
Rotten ulcers, and perfume the path that led 
To death, — strove daily by a thousand means : 
And oft succeeded to make Virtue sour 
In the world's nostrils, and its loathly self 
Smell sweetly. Rumour was the messenger 
Of da&mation, and so swifl that none 
Could be the first to tell an evil tale ; 
And was, withal, so in&mous for lies, 
That he who of her sayings, on his creed, 
The fewest entered, was deemed wisest man. 
The fool, and many who had credit, too, 
For wisdom, grossly swallowed all she said, 
Unsifted ; and although, at every word. 
They heard her contradict herself, and saw 
Hourly they were imposed upon and mocked,*^ 
Tet still they ran to hear her speak, and stared, 
And wondered much, and stood aghast, and said 
It could not be ; and, while they blushed for shame 
At their own faith, and seemed to doubt, believed, 
And whom they met, with many sanctions, told. 
So did experience fail to teach ; — so hard 
It was to learn this simple truth,— confirmed 
At every corner by a' thousand proofs, — 
That common Fame most impudently lied. 

'Twas Slander filled her mouth with lying words, 
Slander, ths foulest whelp of Sin. The man 
In whoitf this spirit entered was undone. 
His tongue was set on fire of hell, his heart 
Was black as death, his legs were faint with haste 
To propagate the lie his soul had framed, 
His pillow was the peace of families 



0. 



BOOK vin. 187 

Desteoyed, the ^gh of innocence reproached, ^ 

Broken friendshiper, and the strife of broUierhoods; 
"Tet did h« spare hia sleep, aiid hear the clock « 
Number the midnight watches, on his bed, 
Devising mischief more ; and early rose, 
And made most hellicdi meals of good men's names. 

From door to door you might have seen him speed, 
Or placed ami<l«»* * 0>a«»p *f 6*^P^^S fools, 
And whispering in their ears, with his foul lipa! 
Peace fled the neighbour hoe4m wKUk h» maHa 
His haunts ; and, like a moral pestilence^ 
Before his breath, the healthy shoots and blooms 
Of social joy and happiness, decayed. 
Fools only in his company were seen. 
And those forsaken of God, and to themselves 
Given up. The prudent shunned him and his house 
As one who had a deadly moral plague. 
And fain Would all have shunned him at*lhe day 
^ Of judgment j but in vain. All who gave ear 
With greetdiness, or wittingly their tongues . 
Made herald to his lies, around him wailed ; 
While on his face, thrown back by injured men, 
In characters of ever-blushing shame, 
Appeared ten thousand slanders, all his own. 

Among the accursed, who sought a hiding place 
In vain, from fierceness of Jehovah's rage. 
And from the hot displeasure of the Lamb, 
Most wretched, most contemptible, most vile,— 
Stood the false priest, and in his conscience felt 
The fellest gnaw of the Undying Worm. 
And so he might, for he had on his hands 
The blood of souls, that would not wipe away. 
Hear what he was. He swore, in sight of God 
And man, to preach his master, Jesus Christ ; 
Yet preached himself : he swore that love of souls, 
Alone, had drawn him to the church ; yet strewed 



188 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

Tlip path that led to hell with tempting flowers, 
And in the ear of sinners, as they took 
The Wfpj of de^th, he whispered peace : he swore 
Awaj all love of lucre, all desire 
Of earthly pomp; and yet a princely seat 
He liked, and to the clink of Mammon's box 
Gave most rapacious ear. His prophecies, 
He swore, were firom the Lord \ and yet, taught lies 
For gain: with quackish ointment . healed the woundB 
And bruises of the soul, outside, but left, 
3Vii ti«- *t »«^ i>«Br.iar.» Twnftftr unobserved, 
.IPo sap the moral constitution quite, 
And soon to burst again, incurable. 
He with untempered mortar daubed the walls 
Of Zion, saying. Peace, when there was none. 
The man who came with thirsty soul to hear 
Of Jesus, went away unsatisfied ; 
;' For he another gospel preached than Paul, 
\ And one that had no Saviour in't ; and yet, 
* His life was worse. Faith, charity, and love. 
Humility, forgiveness, holiness. 
Were words well lettered in his sabbath creed ; 
But with his life he wrote as plain. Revenge, 
Pride, tyranny, and lust of wealth and power 
Inordinate, and lewdness unashamed. 
He was a wolf in clothing of the lamb, 
That stole into the fold of God, and on 
The blood of souls, which he did sell to death. 
Grew fat ; and yet, when any would have turned 
Him out, he cried, " Touch not the priest of God." 
And that he was anointed, fools believed ; 
(But knew, that day, he was the deviFs priest, 
I Anointed by the hands of Sin and Death, 
iAnd set peculiarly apart to ill, — 
While on him smoked the vials of perdition, 
Poured measureless. Ah me ! what cursing then 
Was heaped upon his head by ruined souls. 
That charged him with their murder, as he stood, 



BOOK VIII. 189 

With eye of all the unredeemed most sad, 
Waiting the coming of the Son of Man ! 
But let me pause, for thou hast seen hid place 
And punishment, beyond the sphere of love. 

Much was removed that tempted once to sin ]} 
Avarice no gold, no wine the drunkard, saw. 
But Envy had enough, -as heretofore. 
To fill his heart with gall and bitterness. 
What made the man of envy what he was, 
Was worth in others, vileness in himself* 
A lust of praise, with undeserving deeds, * 

And conscious poverty of soul : and still 
It was his earnest work and daily toil. 
With lying tongue, to make the noble seem 
Mean as himself. On fame's high hill he saw 
The laurel spread its everlasting green, 
And wished to climb ; but felt his knee's too weak, 
And stood, below, unhappy, laying hands 
Upon the strong, ascending gloriously 
The steps of honour, bent to draw them back, 
Involving oft the brightness of their path, 
In mists his breath had raised. Whene'er he heard. 
As oft he did, of joy and happiness. 
And great prosperity, and rising worth, 

/^was like a wave of wormwood o*er his soul 

v{^o]ling its bitterness. His joy was wo, 
The wo of others. When, from wealth to want. 
From praises to reproach, from peace to strife. 
From mirth to tears, he saw a brother ftll. 
Or Virtue make a slip, — ^his dreams were sweet. 
But chief with Slaiider, daughter of his own. 
He took unhallowed pleasure. When she talked, 
And with her filthy lips defiled the best, 
His ear drew near ; with wide attention gaped 
His mouth his eye, well pleased, as eager gazed 
As glutton, when the dish he most desired * 
Was placed before him ; and a horrid mirth, 



■1 



190 THE COUBSE OF TUIE. 




At interrala, with laughter dbook his 
The critic, too, who, fiir a hit of bread. 
In book thatlUl aade befive the ink 
Was dij, pomed fiirth excessiTe nonsense, gave 
EGm much delight. The critics, — some, but few, — 
Were worthj men, and earned renown which had 
Immortal roots ; but most were weak and vile. 
And, as a cloodj swaxin of summer flies. 
With angry hum and slender lance, beset 
The sides of some huge animal ; so did 
They bozx about the iUustriouB man^ and fain, 
his hnmortal honour, down the stream 
feme would have descended ; but, alas ! 

id of Tim e droje them away. They were. 
Indeed, a sinq»le race of men, who had 
One only art, which taught them still to say, 
Whate'er was done might have been better, done ', 
And with Uus art, not ill to learn, they made 
A shift to lire. But, sometimes too, beneath 
The dust they raised, was worth a while obscured ; 
And then did Envy prophesy and langh. 
O Envy ! bide thy bosom, lude it deep. 
A thousand snakes, Vith black, envenomed months, 
Nest there, and Iw, and feed through all thy heart !- 

Such one I saw, here interposing, said 
The new arrived, in that dark den of shame. 
Whom who hath seen shall never wish to see 
Again. Before him, in the infernal gloom, 
That omnipresent shape of Virtue stood 
On which he ever threw his eye ; and, like 
A cinder that bad life and feeling, seemed 
His face, with inward pining, to be what 
He could not be. As being that had burned 
Continually, in slow-consuming fire, — 
Half an eternity, and was to bum 
For evermore, he locked. Oh ! sight to be 
TV>rgotten ! tbDn^^bt too horrible to think ! 



• 



BOOK VIII. 191 

But say, believing in such wo to come, 
Such dreadful certainty of endless pain, 
Could beings of forecasting mould, as thou 
Entitlest men, deliberately walk on, 
Unscared, and overleap their own belief 
Ihto the lake of ever-burning fire P 

Thy tone of asking seems to make reply. 
And rightly seems : They did not so believe. 
Not one of all thou sawst lament and wail 
In Tophet, perfectly believed the word 
Of God, else none had thither gone. Absurd, 
To think that beings, made witK reason, formed 
To calculate, compare, choose, and reject. 
By nature taught, and self, and every sense, 
To choose the good, and pass the evil by, 
Could, with full credence of a time to come, 
When all the wicked should be really damned, 
And cast beyond the sphere of light and love. 
Have persevered in sin ! Too foolish this 
For folly in its prime. Can aught that thinks 
And wills choose certain evil, and reject 
Good, in his heart believing he does so } 
Could man choose pain, instead of endless joy ? 
Mad supposition, though maintained by some 
Of honest mind. Behold a man condemned ! 
Either he ne'er inquired, and therefore he 
Could not believe ; or, else, he carelessly 
Inquired, and something other than the word 
Of God received into his cheated faith ; 
And therefore he did not believe, but down 
To hell descended, leaning on a lie. 

Faith was bewildered much by men who meant 
To make it clear, so simple in itself, 
A thought so rudimental and so plain, 
That none by comment could it plaimiK make. 
AH fidth was one. In object, not in kfadd', 



192 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

The difference Uy. The ftiththat mved a soul, 

And that which in the commoo truth belieyedy 

In eaeence, were the same. Hear, then, what faith. 

True, Christian faith, which brought salvation, was : 

•Belief in all that God revealed tf> men; 

Observe, in all that God revealed to men, I 

In all he promised, threatened, commanded, said, I 

Without exception, and without a doubt. 

Who thus believed, being by the Spirit touched, 

As naturally the fruits of faith produced, 

Truth, temperance, meekness, holiness, and love, 

As human eye from darkness sought the light. 

How could he else ? {f he, who had firm faith 

The morrow's sun should rise, ordered affairs 

Accordingly ; if he, who had firm faith 

That spring, and summer, and autumnal days, 

Should pass away, and winter really come, 

Prepared accordingly ; if he, who saw 

A bolt of death approaching, turned aside 

And let it pass ; — as surely did the man, 

Who verily believed the word of God, 

Though erring whiles, its general laws obey. 

Turn back from hell, and take the way to heaven^ 

That faith was necessary, some alleged, 1 

Unreined and uncontrollable by will. 
Invention savouring much of hell ! Indeed, 
It was the master-stroke of wickedness, 
Last effort of Abaddon's council dark. 
To make man think himself a slave to fate, 
And, worst of all, a slave to fate in faith. • 

For llius 'twas reasoned then : From faith alone, 
And from opinion, springs all action j hence, 
If fiiith's compelled, so is all action too : 
But deeds compelled are not accountable ; 
So man is not amenable to God. 






BOOK VIII. % » 193 



J 



Arguing that brought such monfltrous hirth, though . 
good 
It seemed, must have been false. Most false it was. 
And by the book of God condemned, throughout. 
We freely own, that truth, when set before 
The mind, with perfect evidence, compelled 
Belief; but error lacked such witness, still: 
And none, who now lament in moral night. 

The word of God refused on evidence '1 

That might not have been set aside as false. 
To reason, try, choose, and reject, was free. 
Hence God, by faith, acquitted, or condemned ; 
Hence righteous men, with liberty of will, * 

Believed ; and hence thou sawst in Erebus 
The wicked, who as freely disbelieved 
What else had led them to the land of life. 
17 



\ 



THE 



COURSE OF TIME. 



BOOK DC 



Fairist of thofle that left the calm of heaven, 

And ventured down to man, with words of peace, 

Daughter of Grace ! known by whatever name, 

Religion, Virtue, Piety, or Love 

Of HolineM, the day of thy reward 

Wbm come. Ah ! thou wast long despised, despised 

By those thou wooedst from death to endless life. 

Modest and meek, in garments white as those 

That seraphs wear, and countenance as mild 

As Mercy looking on Repentance' tear ; 

With eye of purity, now darted up 

To Ood's eternal throne, now humbly bent 

Upon thyself, and, weeping down thy cheek, 

That glowed with universal love immense, 

A tear, pure as the dews that fall in heaven ; 

In thy left hand, the olive branch, and in 

Thy right, the crown of immortality ; — 

With noiseless foot, thou walkedst the vales of earth, 

Beseeching men, from age to age, to turn 

From utter death, to turn from wo to bliss ; 

Beseeching evermore, and evermore 

Despised — not evermore despised, not now. 

Not at the day of doom ; most lovely then, 

Most honourable, thou appeared, and most 



« •-' 



lis THE COUttSE tfF TIME. 

Tq be desired. The guilty heajnd the Mtng 
Of thy redeemed, how loud ! and a&w thy fitce 
How fair ! Alas ! it was too late ! the hour 
Of making^ friends was {Missed, thy fiiyour then 
Might not be sought ; but recollection, sad 
And accuMite, as miser counting o'er 
And o'er again the sum he must lay out, 
Distinctly in;the wicked's ear rehearsed 
Each opportunity despised and lost, 
tV^hile on them gleamed thy holy look, that like 

/A fiery torrent went into their souls. 

^he day of thy reward was come, the day 
Of great remuneration to thy friends. 
To those, known by whatever name, who sought. 
In every place, in every time, to do 
Unfeignedly their Maker's will, revealed, 
Or gathered else 0:om nature's school ; well pleased 
With God's applause alone, that, Uke a stream 
Of sweetest melody, at still of night 
By wanderer heard, in their most secret ear 
For ever whispered. Peace ; and, as a^tring 
Of kindred ton^w<^e, their inmost soul 
Responsive answered. Peace ; inquiring still 
And searching, night and day, to know their duty. 
When known, with undisputing trust, with love 
Unquenchable, with zeal, by reason's lamp 
Inflamed, — ^performing ; and to Him, by whose 
Profound, all-calculating skill, alone, 

. Results — results even of the slightest act. 
Are full^ grasped, with unsuspicious faith, 
All consequences leaving ; to abound, 
Or want, alike prepared; who knew to be 
Exalted how, and how to be abased ; 
How best to live, and how to die when asked. 
Their prayers sincere, their alms in secret done. 
Their fightings with themselves, their abstinence 
From pleasure, though by mortal eye unseen, 
Their hearts of resignation to the will 



BOOK IX. 197 

• 

Of Heaven, their patient bearing of reproach 

And shame, their charity, and faith, and hope, — 

Thou didst remember, and in iiill repaid. 

No bankrupt thou, who, at the bargained hour 

Of payment due, sent to his creditors 

A tale of losses and mischances, long. 

Ensured by God himself, and from the stores 

And treasures of his wealth, at will supplied, — 

Religion, thou alone, of all that men, 

On earth, gave credit, to be reimbursed 

On the other qide the grave, didst keep thy word. 

Thy day, and all thy promises fulfilled. 

As in the mind, rich with unborrowed wealth. 
Where multitudes of thoughts for utterance strivOy 
And all so fair, that each seems worthy first 
To enter on the tongue, and from the lips 
Have passage forth, — selection hesitates 
Perplexed, and loses time, anxious, since all 
Cannot be taken, to take the best ; and yet 
Afiraid, lest what he left be worthier still ; 
And grieving much, where all so goodly look, 
To leave rejected one; or in the rear 
Let any be obscured : so did the bard, 
Though not unskilled, as on that multitude 
Of men who once awoke to judgment, he 
Threw back reflection, hesitating pause. 
For as his harp, in tone severe, had sung 
What figure the most fiunous sinners made. 
When from the grave they rose unmasked ; so did 
He wish to character the good ; but yet. 
Among so many, glorious all, all worth 
Immortal fame, with whom begin, with whom 
To end, was difficult to choose ; and long 
His auditors, upon the tiptoe raised 
Of expectation, might have kept, had not 
His eye — for so it is in heaven, tiiat what 
Is needed always is at hand — ^beheld, 
17 ♦ 



198 



THE COURSE OF TIME. 



That momenti on a moimtaiii near the throne 
(y God, the moat renowned of the redeemed. 
Rejoicing : nor who first, who meet, to praiae, 
Debated more ; but thns, with sweeter note, 
Well pleased to tingf with highest eulogy. 
And first, whom God applauded most, — began. 

With patient ear, thou now hast heard,<<->though 
whiles, 
Ande digressing, ancient feeling turned 
My lyre, — ^wfaat shame the wicked had, that day, 
What wailing, what remorse ; so hear, in brief. 
How bold the righteous stood, the men redeemed, 
How fiiir in virtue, and in hope how glad ! 
And first among the holy shone, as best 
Became, the fiiithful minister of God. 

See where he walks on yonder mount that lifts 
Its summit high, on the right hand of bliss. 
Sublime in glory, talking with his peers 
Of the incarnate Saviour's love, and passed ^ 

Afiliction lost in present joy ! See how 
His fiice with heavenly ardour glo^s, and how 
His hand, enraptured, strikes the golden lyre ! 
As now, conversing of the Lamb, once slain. 
He speaks ; and now, from vines that never hear 
Of winter, but in monthly harvest yield 
Their fruit abundantly, he plucks the grapes 
Of life ! But what he was on earth it most 
Behoves to say. Elect by God himself| 
Anointed by the Holy Ghost, and set 
Apart to the great work of saving men ; 
Instructed fully in the will divine. 
Supplied with grace in store, as need might ask, 
And with the stamp and signature (^heaven, 
Truth, mercy, patience, holiness, and love, 
Accredited ; — ^he was a man, by God, 
The Lord, commissioned to make known to men 



1 



■*-» 



BOOK IX. 199 

The eternal couiuek ; ia his Master's name, 
' To treat with them of eyerhuitm^ things^ 

\ Of life, death, bliss, and wo ; to offer terms * 

Of pardon, grace, and peace, to the rebelled ; 
To teach the ignorant sonl, to cheer the sad ; 
To bind, to loose, with all authority ; 
To give the feeble strength, the hopeless Iwpe, 
To help the halting, and to lead the blind ; 
To warn the careless, heal the sick of heart, 
Arouse the indolent, and on the proud 
And obstinate ofiender to denounce 
The wrath of God. All other men, what name 
Soe'er they.bore, whatever office held. 
If lawful held, — ^the magistrate supreme, 
Or else subordinate, were chosen by men, 
Their fellows, and from men derived their power,. 
And were accountable, for all they did, 
To men ; but he, alone, his office held 
* ' Immediately from God, from God received 

Authority, and was to none but God 
Amenable. The elders of the church, 
Indeed, upon him laid their hands, and set 
* Him visibly apart to preach the word 

*•- Of life ; but this was merely outward rite 

And decent ceremonial, performed 
On all alike ; and oft, as thou hast beard, 
Performed on those God never sent ; his call, 
His consecration, his anointing, all 
Were inward, in the conscience heard and felt. 
Thus, by Jehovah chosen, and ordained 
To take into his charge the souls of men, . 
And for his trust to answer at the day 
Of judgment, — great plenipotent of heaven, 
And representative of God on earth, — 
Fearless of men and devils ; unabashed 
By sin enthroned, or mockery of a prince, 
Unawed by armed legions, unseduced 
By offered bribes, burning with love to souls, 



aoo 



THE COURSE OF TUtE. 



Unqfiieiicliable, and mindfiil stiU of his 

Great charge and vaat reapoiuibility j— 

High in the temple of the living God, 

He stood, amidst the people, and declared 

Alood the truth, the whole revealed truth. 

Ready to aeal it with his blood. Divine 

Resemblance most complete ! with mercy now 

And love, his fiice, illumed, shone gloriously ; 

And frowning now indignantly, it seemed 

As if offended Justice, from his eye. 

Streamed forth vindictive wrath ! Men heard, alamiecL 

The uncircumcised infidel believed; 

Light- thooghted Mirth grew 'serious, and wept ; 

The laugh profane sunk in a sigh of deep 

Repentance, the bla^hemer, kneeling, prayed, 

And, prostrate in the dust, for mercy called ; 

And cursed, old, forsaken nnners gnashed 

Their teeth, as if their hour had been arrived. 

Such was his calling, his commission such. 

Tet he was humble, kind, forgiving, meek, 

Easy to be entreated, gracious, mild ', 

And, with all patience and affection, taught. 

Rebuked, persuaded, solaced, counselled, warned. 

In fervent style and manner. Needy, poor. 

And dying men, like music, heard his feet 

Approach their beds ; and guilty wretches took 

New hope, and in his prayers wept and smiled. 

And blessed him, as they died forgiven ; and all 

Saw in his face contentment, in his life, 

The path to glory and perpetual joy. 

Deep-learned in the philosophy of heaven. 

He searcjied the causes out of good and ill. 

Profoundly calculating their efiects 

Far past the bounds of Time ; and balancing. 

In the arithmetic of future things, 

The loss and profit of the soul to all 

Eternity. A skilful workman he 

In God's g^reat moral vineyard : what to prune 



1 



J 



BOOK IX. 201 

With eautiouB htnd be knew, what to uproot ; * 
What were mere weeds, and what oeleitial plants 
Which had unfadini^ Tigour in them, knew ; 
Nor knew alone, but watched them night and day, 
And reared and nourished them, till fit to be 
Transplanted to the Paradise aboTO. 

Oh ! who can speak his praise ! great, humble man ! 
He in the current of destruction stood 
And warned the sinner of his wo ; led on 
Immanuel's members in the eyil day ; 
And, with the everlasting arms embraced 
Himself around, stood in the dreadful front 
Of battle, high, and warred yiotoriously 
With death and hell. And now was come his rest, 
His triumph day. Illustrious like a sun, 
In that assembly, he, shining from far, 
Most excellent in glory, stood assured, 
Waiting the promised crown, the promised throne. 
The welcome and approval of his Lord. 
Nor one alone, but many — ^prophets, priests, 
Apostles, great reformers, all that served 
Messiah faithfully, like stars appeared 
Of fairest beam ; and round them gathered, olad 
In white, the vouchers of their ministry — 
The flock their care had nourished, fed, and saved. 

Nor yet in common glory blazing, stood 
The true philosopher, decided ftiend 
Of truth and man. Determined foe of all 
Deception, calm, collected, patient, wise, 
And humble, undeceived by outward shape 
Of things, by fashion's revelry uncharmed, 
By honour uitbewitched,— he left the chase 
Of vanity, and all the quackeries 
Of life, to fools and heroes, or whoe'er 
Desired them ; and with reason, much despised, 
Tradnoed, yet heavenly reason, to the shade 



202 THE COURSK OF TlBtS. 

Retifed — ^retired, but not to dream, or boUd 

Of ghostly fancies, seen in the deep noon 

Of sleepi ill-balanoed theories ; retired. 

But did not leave mankind ; in pity, not 

In wrath, retired ; and still, thoagh distant, kept 

His e je on men ; at proper angle took 

His stand to see them better, and, beyond 

The clamour which the bells of folly made, 

That most had hung about them, to consult 

With nature, how their madness might be cured. 

And how their true substantial comforts might 

Be multiplied. Religious man ! what God 

By prophets, priests, eyangelists, revealed 

or sacred truth, he thankfully received. 

And, by its light directed, went in search 

Of more. Before him, darkness fled ; and all 

The goblin tribe, that hung upon the breasts 

Of Night, and haunted still the moral gloom 

With shapeless forms, and blue, infernal lights. 

And indistinct, and devilish whisperings. 

That the miseducated &ncies vexed ^ 

Of superstitious men, — at his approach. 

Dispersed, invisible. Where'er he went. 

This lesson still he taught, To fear no ill . 

But sin, no being but Almighty God. '1 

All-comprehending sage ! too hard alone 

For him was man's salvation ; all besides, 

Of use or comfort, that distinction made 

Between the desperate savage, scarcely raised 

Above the beast whose flesh he ate, undressed, 

And the most polished of the human race, 

Was product of his persevering search. 

Religion owed him much, as from the false 

She suflered much ; for still his main design. 

In all his contemplations, was to trace 

The wisdom, providence, and love of God, 

And to his fellows, less observant, show 

Them forth. From prejudice redeemed, with all 



BOOK. IX. 203 

His paflsioiui still, above the common world, 
Sublime in reason and in aim sublime, 
He sat, and on the marvellous works of God 
Sedately thought ; now glancii^ up his eje, 
Intelligent, through all the gjiajf y y dance . 
And penetrating now the deep remote 
Of central causes in the womb opaque 
Of matter hid ; now with inspection nice, 
Entering the mystic labyrinths of the mind. 
Where thought, of notice ever shy, behind ' 
Thought, disappearing, still retired ; and still, 
ffho ught meeting tliought, and thought awakeninf*\ 
thought, J 

And mingling still with thought in endless maze, — 
Bewildered observation ; now, with eye 
Yet more severely purged, looking far down 
Into the heart, where passion wove a web 
Of thousand thousand threads, in grain and hue 
All different \ then, upward venturing whiles, 
But reverently, and in^ hand, the light 
Revealed, near the eternal Throne, he gazed, 
Philosophizing less than worshipping. 
Most truly great ! his intellectual strength 
And knowledge vast, to men of lesser mind. 
Seemed infinite ; yet, from his high pursuits, 
And reasonings most profound, he still returned 
Home, with an humbler and a warmer heart : 
And none so lowly bowed before his God, 
As none so well His awful majesty 
And goodness comprehended ; or so well 
His own dependency and weakness knew. 

How glorious now, with vision purified 
At the Essential Truth, entirely free 
From error, he, investigating still, — 
For knowledge is not found, unsought, in heaven,-— 
From world to world, at pleasure, roves, on wing 
Of golden ray upborne ', or, at the feet 



^ 



I 



204 THE COURSE OT TIME. 

Of heaven's most ancient sages, sitting, bean 
New wonders of the wondroos works Isi Crod ! 

Ulnstrious too, that morning, stood themaA 
Exalted by the people, to the throne 
Of government, established on the base 
Of justice, liberty, and equal right ; 
Who, in his countenance' snblime, expressed 
A nation's majesty, and yet was meek 
And humble ; and in royal palace gave 
Example to the meanest, of the fear 

^ Of God, and all integrity of life 

I And manners ; who, august, yet lowly ; who, 
Severe, yet gracious ; in his very heart, 
Detesting all oppression, all intent 
Of private aggrandizement ; and, the first 
In every public duty, held the scales 
Of justice, and as the law, which reigned in him^ 
Commanded, gave rewards ; or, with the edge 
Vindictive, smote, now light, i^fr heavily, 
According to the stature of the crime. 
Conspicuous like an oak of healthiest bough, 
Deep-rooted in his country's love, he stood^ 
And gave his hand to Virtue, helping up 
The honest man to honour and renown ; 
And, with the look which geodness wears in wrath. 
Withering the very blood of Knavery, 
And from his presence driving far, ashamed. 

Nor less remarkable, among the blessed. 
Appeared the man, who, in the senate-house, 
Watchful, unhired, unbribed, and uncorrupt, 
And party only to the common weal, 
In virtue's awful rage, pleaded for right. 
With truth so clear, with argument so strong, 
With action so sincere, and tone so loud 
And deep, as made the despot quake behind 
His adamantine gates, and every joint, 



BOOK IX. 206 

In terror, smite his fellow-joint relaxed j 

Or, marching to the field, in burnished steel. 

While, frowning on his brow, tremendous hung 

The wrath of a whole j>eople, long provoked, — • 

Mustered the stormy wlng;s of war, in day * 

Of dreadful deeHs ;~iuid led the battle on. 

When Liberty, swift as the fires of heaven, 
- In fury rode, with all her hosts, and threw 

The tyrant down, or drove invasion back. 

niustrious he^^illustrious all appeared, ' 

Who ruled supreme in righteousness; or held 

Inferior place, in steadfast rectitude 

Of soul. Peo«liarly severe had been 
* The nurture of their youth, their knowledge great, 

Great was their wisdom, great their cares, and great 

Their self-denial, and their service done 

To God and man ; and great was their reward. 

At hand, proportioned to their worthy deeds. 

/iBreathe all thy mihstroliy, immortal Harp ! 

^reathe numbers warm with love, while I rehearse 

T)elighted theme, resembling most the songs 

Which^ day and night, are sung before the Lamb !— 

Thy praise, O Charity ! thy labours most • 

Divine ; thy sympathy with sighs, and tears, 

And groans ; thy great, thy god-like wish, to heal 

All misery, all fortune's wounds, and make 

The soul of every living thing rejoice. 

O thou wast needed much in days of Time '. 

No virtue, half so much! — None half so fair ! 

To all the rest, however fine, thou gavest 

A finishing and polish, without which 

No man e'er entered heaven. Let me record 

His praise, the man of great benevolence, 

Who pressed thee closely to his glowing heart, 
rAnd to thy gentle bidding made his feet 
[Swift minister. Of all mankind, his soid 

vVas most in harmony with heaven : as one 
18 



r^' 



206 THK COURSE OF TIlfB. 

Sole frnmily of brothen, taaien, friends, 

One in their origin, one in their rights 

To all the common gifts of providence. 

And in their hopes, their joys, and sorrows one, 

He viewed the universal human race. 

He needed not a law of state, to force 

Grudging submission to the law of God. 

The law of love was in his heart, alive-; 

What he possessed, he counted not his own , 

But, like a &ithful steward in a house 

Of public alms, what freely he received 

He freely gave, distributing to all 

The helpless the last mite beyond his own 

Temperate support, and reckoning still the gift 

But justice, due to want ; and so it was, 

Although the world, with compliment not ill 

Applied, adorned it with a fairer name. 

Nor did he wait till to his door the voice 

Of supplication came, but went abroad, 

With foot as silent as the starry dews. 

In search of misery that pined unseen. 

And would not ask. And who can tell what sights 

He saw i what groans he heard, in that cold world 

Below ! where Sin, in league with gloomy Death, 

Marched daily through the length and breadth of all 

The land, wasting at will, and making earth, 

Ffur earth ! a lazar-house, a dungeon dark, 

Where Disappointment fed on ruined Hope, 

Where Guilt, worn out, leaned on the triple edge 

Of want, remorse, despair ; where Cruelty 

Reached forth a cup of wormwood to the lips 

Of Sorrow, that to deeper Sorrow wailed; 

Where Mockery, and Disease, and Poverty, 

Met miserable Age, erewhile sore bent 

With his own burden ; where the arrowy winds 

Of winter pierced the naked orphan babe, 

And chilled the mother's heart, who had no home ; 

And where, alas ! in mid-time of his day, 



^ 



BOOK IX. 207 

The honeit man, robbed by some villain's hand, 
Or with.long sickness pale, and paler yet 
With want and hunger, oft drank bitter draughts 
Of his own teairs, and had no bread to eat. 
Oh ! who can tell what sights he saw, what shapes 
Of wretchedness ! or who describe what smiles 
Of gratitude illum^ed the face of wo, 
While from his hand he gave the bounty forth ! 
As when the Sun, to Cancer wheeling back, 
Returned from Capricorn, and showed the north. 
That long had lain in cold and cheerless night, 
^is beamy countenance ; all nature then 
Rejoiced together glad ; the flower looked up 
And smiled ; the forest, from his locks, shook off 
The hoary frosts, and clapped his hands ; the birds ^ 
Awoke, and, singing, rose to meet the day ; 
And from his hollow den, where many months 
He slumbered sad in darkness, blithe and light 
Of heart the savage sprung, and saw again 
His mountains shine, and with new songs of love 
Allured the virgin's ear : so did the heuse. 
The prison-house of guilt, and all the abodes 
Of unprovided helplessness, revive. 
As on them looked the sunny messenger 
Of Charity/ By angels tended still, • 
That marked his deeds, and wrote them in the book 
Of God's remembrance ; careless he to be 
Observed of men, or have each mite bestowed 
Recorded punctually, with name and place, 
In every bill of news. Pleased to do good. 
He gave, and sought no more, nor questioned much 
Nor reasoned, who deserved ; for well he knew 
The face of need. Ah me ! who could mistake ? 
The shame to ask, the want that urged within. 
Composed a look so perfectly distinct 
From all else human, and withal so full ^ 
Of misery, that none could pass, untouched^ 
And be a Christian, or thereafter claim. 



■^ 



208 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

In any form, the name or rights of man, 

Or, at the day of jadgment, lift hi^ eye ; 

While he, in name of Christ, who gave the poor 

A cup of water, or a bit of bread, ** 

Impatient for his advent, waiting stood, ^ 

Glowing in robes of love and holiness, I 

Heaven's fairest dress ! and round him ranged, in white, ' 

A thousand witnesses appeared, prepared j 

To tell his gracious deeds before the Throne. 

, Nor unrenowned among the most renowned, 

Nor *mong the fairest imadmired, that morn. 

When highest Taine was proof of highest worth. 

Distinguished stood the bard : not be, who sold 

The incommunicable, heavenly gift, 

To Folly, and with lyre of perfect tone, 

Prepared by God himself, for holiest praise, — 

Vilest of traitors ! most dishonest man ! — 

Sat by the door of Ruin, and made there 

A melody so sweet, and in the mouth 

Of drunkenness and»debauch, that else had croaked 

In natural discordance jarring harsh, 

Put so divine a song, that many turned 

Aside, and entered in undone, and thought, 

Meanwhile, it was the gate of heaven, so like ^ 

An angel's voice the music seemed ; nor he, 

Who, whining grievously of damsel coy, 

Or blaming fortune, that would nothing give 

For doing naught, in indolent lament 

Unprofitable, passed his piteous days, 

Making himself the hero of his tale, 

Deserving ill the poet'« name : but he. 

The bard, by God's c(Kn hand anointed, who, 

To Virtue's all-delighting harmony, \ 

His numbers tuned : who, from the fount of truth, 

Poured melody, and beauty poured, and love. 

In holy stream, into the human heart ; 

And, from the height of lofty argument, 



BOOK IX. 209 

- Who " justified the waya of Ood to man," 
And sung what still he sings, approved, in heaven ; 
Though now with bolder note, above the damp 
Terrestrial, which the pure celestial fire 
Cooled, and restrained in part his flaming wing. 

Philosophy was deemed of deeper thought, 
And judgment more severe, than Poetry ; 
To fable, she, and fancy, more inclined. 
And yet, if Fancy, as was understood, 
Was of creative nature, or of power. 
With self-wrought stufiT, to build a fabric up, 
To mortal vision wonderful and strange, . 
A*hilosophy, the theoretic, claimed, ^N L ^ ^.. - 1, ^- 
f Undoubtedly, the first and highest plac^ |l/^ 
Mn Fancy's favour. Her material souls. 
Her chance, her atoms shaped alike, her white 
Proved blac^, her universal nothing, all ; 
And all her wondrous systems, how the mind 
With matter met ', how man was free, and yet 
All pre-ordained ; how evil first began -, 
And chief, her speculations, soaring high, 
Of the eternal, uncreated Mind, 
Which left all reason infinitely far ' 

Behind — surprising ieat of theory ! — 
Were pure creation of her own, webs wove 
Of gossamer in Fancy's lightest loom, 
And no where, on the list of being made 
By God, recorded : but her look, meanwhile, 
Was grave and studious ; and many thought 
She reasoned deeply, when she wildly roved. 

The true, legitimate, anointed bard, 
Whose song through ages poured its melody, 
Was most severely thoughtful, most minute 
And accurate of observation, most 
Familiarly acquainted with all modes 
And phases of existence. True, no doubt, 
18* 



210 TBS C017R8B OP TIMB. 

He had originany dnmk, from out '^^ ' 

iThe fount of life and IotOi a double draught, 
/That gaye whatever he touched a double life : ' 

But thii wa« mere deeve at firtti aod power 

DoToid of means to work by ; need waa atill 
; Of peraeTering, quick, inepective mood 
' Of mind, of feUhful memory, yasUy stored, 
\From uniyeraal being's ample field, 

!With knowledge ; and a judgment, sound and elear, 

Well disciplined in nature's rules of taste ; 

.'Discerning to select, arrange, combine. 

From infinite yariety, and still 

To nature true ; and guide withal, hard task, 
' The sacked, living impetus divine, 

Discreetly through the hurmony of song. 

Completed thus, the poet sung ; and age 

To age, enraptured, heard his measures flow ; 

Enraptured, for he poured the very fiit 

And marrow of existence through his yerse, 

And gaye the soul, that else, in selfish cold, 

Unwarmed by kindred interest, had lain, 

A roomy life, a glowing relish high, 

A sweet, expansive brotherhood of being — 

Joy answering joy, and Sigh responding sigh, M 

Through all the fibres of the social heart. I 

Observant, sympathetic, sound of head. 

Upon the ocean vast of human thought. 

With passion rough and stormy, venturing out, i 

Even as the living billows rolled, he threw I 

His numbers over them, seized as they weroi j 

And to perpetual ages left them fixed. 

To each, a mirror of itself displayed ; 

Despair for ever lowering dark on Sin, 

And Happiness on Virtue smiling fair. 

He was the minister of fame, and gave 
To whom he would renown ; nor missed himsell^ 
Although despising much the idiot roar 



J 



BOOK IX. ,211 

Of populmr applause, that sudden, oft, 

Unnaturally turning, whom it nuraed 

Itaelf devoured — ^the lasting fiune, the praise 

Of God and holy men, to excellence given. 

Yet less he sought his own renown, than wished 

To have the eternal images of truth 

And beauty, pictured in his verse, admired. 

'Twas these, taking immortal shape and form 

Beneath his eye, that charmed his midnight watch, 

And oft his soul with awftil transports shook 

Of happiness, unfelt by other men. 

This was that spell, that sorcery, which bound 

The poet to the lyre, and would not let 

Him go ; that hidden mystery of joy. 

Which made him sing in spite of fortune's worst ; 

And was, at once, both motive and reward. 

Nor now among the choral harps, in this 
The native clime of song, are those unknown, 
With higher note ascending, who, below, 
In holy ardour, aimed at lofty strains. 
True fame is never lost : many, whose names 
Were honoured much on earth,' are famous here 
For poetry, and, with arch-angel harps. 
Hold no unequal rivalry in song ; 
Leading the choirs of heaven, in numbers high, 
In numbers ever sweet and ever new. 

Behold them yonder, where the river pure 
Flows warbling down before the throne of God ; 
And, shading on each side, the tree of life 
Spreads its unfading boughs ! — See how they shine. 
In garments white, quaffing deep draughts of lovo. 
And harping on their harps, new harmonies 
Preparing for the ear of God, Most High ! 

But why should I, of individual worth. 
Of individual glory, longer mnjf ? 



212 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

No true believer was, that day, obscure ; 

No holy sold but had enough of joy ; 

No pious wish without its full reward. 

Who in the Father and the Son believed, ^ * 

With faith that wrought by love to holy deeds, 

And purified the heart, none trembled ihere, 

Nor had by earthly guise his rank concealed ; 

Whether, unknown, he tilled the ground remote. 

Observant of the seasons, and adored 

God in the promise, yearly verified, 

Of seed-time, harvest, summer, winter, day 

And nighty returning duly at the time 

Appointed ; or, on the shadowy mountain side, 

Wqfshipped at dewy eve, watching his flocks ; 

Or, trading, saw the wonders of the deep. 

And as the needle to the starry Pole 

Turned constantly, so he his heart to God ; 

Or else, in servitude severe, was taught 

To break the bonds of sin ; or, begging, learned 

To trust the Providence that fed the raven. 

And clothed the lily with her annual gown. . 

Most numerous, indeed, among the saved. 
And many, too, not least illustrious, shone ^ 

The men who had no name on earth. Eclipsed m 

By lowly circumstance, they lived unknown. 
Like stream that in the desert warbles clear, 
Still nursing, as it goes, the herb and flower, 

Though never seen ; or like the star, retired I 

In soUtudes of ether, far beyond I 

All sight, not of essential splendour less. 
Though shining unobserved. None saw their pure 
Devotion, none their tears, their faith, and love. 

Which burned within them, both to God and man, 

None saw but God. He, jj^M0l0tltf all 
Their tears preserved, and every holy wish 
Wrote in his book ; and, not as they had done, 
£ut as they wished with all their heart to do, 



BOOK IX. 213 

Arrftyed them, now in glory , and displayed, — 
No longer hid by coarse, uncourtly garb,-^ 
In lustre equal t^ their inward worth. 

Man's time was passed, and his eternity 
Begun. No fear remained of change. The youth, 
Who, in the glowing morn of yigorous life, * 
High-reacilung after great religious deeds, 
Was suddenly cut off, with all his hopes 
In sunny bloom, and unaccomplished left 
His withered aims, — saw everlasting days, 
Befpre him, dawning rise, in which to achieve 
All glorious things, and get himself the name 
That jealous Death too soon forbade on earth. 

Old things had passed away, and all wa« new ; 
And yet, of all the new-begun, naught so 
Prodigious difference made, in the affairs 
And thoughts of every man, as certainty. 
For doubt, all doubt, was gone, of every kind ; 
Doubt that erewhile, beneath the lowest base 
Of mortal reasonings, deepest laid, crept in, 
And made the strongest, best cemented towers 
Of human workmanship, so weakly shake. 
And to their lofty tops so waver still. 
That those who built them, feared their sudden fall. 
But doubt, all doubt, was passed ; and, in its pla'ce, 
To every thought that in the heart of man 
Was present, now had come an absolute. 
Unquestionable certainty, which gave 
To each decision of the mind immense 
Importance, raising to its proper height 
The sequent tide of passion, whether joy 
Or grief. The good man knew, in very truth, 
That he was saved to all eternity, 
And feared no more -, the bad had proof complete. 
That he was damned for ever ; and believed 



214 THE COUSSE OT TIKB. 

Enturel/y that oa every wicked soiil 

AiigoaA. fhould comei and wrath, and utter wo. 

Knowledge was mnch increaaed, hut wisdom mare. 
The fiUn of Time, that still before the sight 
Of mortal iriflon danced, and led the best 
Astray, parsoing unsubstantial dreams, 
Had dropped from every eye. Men saw that they 
Had vexed themselves in vain, to understand 

What now no hope to understand remained ; I 

That they had often counted evil good, 
And good for ill ; laughed when they should have wept , 
And wept, forlorn, when God intended mirth. 
But what, of all their follies passed, surprised 
Them most, and seemed most totally insane 
And unaccountable, was value set 
On objects of a day, was serious grief 
Or joy for loss or gain of mortal things. 
So utterly impossible it seemed, 
When men their proper interests saw, that aught 
Of terminable kind, that aught, ^hich e*er « 

Could die, or cease to be, however named, 
Should make a human soul — a legal heir 
Of everlasting years — ^rejoice or weep. 

In earnest mood } for nothing now seemed worth ■ 

A thought, but had eternal bearing in't. I 

Much truth had been assented to in Time, 
Which never, till this day, had made a due 
Impression on the heart. Take one example. 
Early from lieaven it was revealed, and oft 
Repeated in the world, from pulpitB preached. 
And penned and read in holy books, that God 
Respected not the persons of mankind. 
Had this been truly credited and felt, 
{The king, in purple robe, had owned, indeed, 
The beggar for bia brother ; pride of rank \ 



BOOK IX. 



216 



And office thawed into paternal love ; 

Oppression feared the day of equal rights, 

Predicted j covetous extortion kept 

In mind the hou; of reckoning, soon to come j 

And hribed injustice thought of being judged, 

When he should stand, on equal foot, beside 

The man he wronged, and surely— nay, 'tis true, 

Most true, beyond all whispering of doubt, 

That he, who lifted up the reeking scourge, 

Dripping with gore from the slave's back, before 

He struck again, had paused, and seriously 

Of that tribunal thought, where God himself 

Should look him in the face, and ask in wrath, 

" Why didst thou this ? Man ! was he not thy brother, 

Bone of thy bone, and flesh and blood of thine ?'* 

But, ah ! this truth, by heaven and reason taught, 

Was never fully credited on earth. 

The titled, flattered, lofty men of power, ■ 

Whose wealth bough^verdicts of applause for deeds 

Of wickedneB"3t could ne'er believe the time 

Should trulycome when judgment should proceed 

Impartially against them,- and they, too. 

Have no good speaker at the Judge's ear. 

No witnesses to bring them off for gold. 

No power to turn the sentence from its course ; 

And they of low estate, who saw themselves, 

Day after day, despised, and wronged, and mocked, 

Without rodress, could scarcely think the day 

Should e'er arrive, when they, in truth, should stand 

On perfect level with the potentates 

And princes of the earth, and have their cause 

Examined fairly, and their rights allowed. 

But now this truth was felt, believed and felt, 

That men were really of a common stock, 

That no man ever had been more than man. 

■ 

Much prophecy — ^revealed by holy bards, 
Who sung the will of heaven by Judah's streams — 



216 THE COUESE OF TIME. 

Mnch prophecy, that waited long, the scoff' 

Of lips uncircumcised, was then fblfilled ; 

To the last tittle scrupulously fulfilled. 

It was foretold by those of ancient days, 

A time should come^ when wickedness should weep. 

Abased ; when every lofly look of man 

Should be bowed down, and all his haughtiness 

Made low ', when righteousness alone should lift 

The head in glory, and rejoice at heart ; 

When many, first in splendour and renown, 

Should be most vile ; and many, lowest once. 

And last in Poverty's obscurest nook. 

Highest and first in honour, should .be seen, 

Exalted ; and when some, when all the good. 

Should rise to glory and eternal life i 

And all the bad, lamenting, wake, condemned 

To ahame, contempt, and everlasting grief. 

These prophecies had tarried long, so long 
That many wagged the head, and, taunting, asked, 
''When shall they comef' but asked no more, nor 
mocked : 
/Tot the reproach of prophecy was wiped 
vAway, and every word of God found true. | 

And, oh ! what change of state, what change of rank, 
In that assembly everywhere was seen ! 
The humble-hearted laughed, the lofty mourned. 
And every man, according to his works 
Wrought in the body, there took character. 

Thus stood they mixed, all generations stood ! 
Of all mankind, innumerable throng! 
Great harvest of the grave ! — waiting the will 
Of heaven, attentively and silent all. 

As forest spreading out beneath the calm I 

Of evening skies, when even the smgle leaf ' 

Is heard distinctly rustle down and fall ; 



BOOK IX. 217 

So lileikt they, when from above, the sound 
Of rapid wheels i4[>proached, and suddenly 
In heaven appeared a host of angels strong, 
With chariots and with steeds of burning fire ; 
Cherub, and Seraph, Thrones, Dominions, Powers, 
Bright in celestial armour, dazzling, rode. 
And, leading in the front, illustrious shone 
Michael and Gabriel, servants long approved 
In high commission, — girt that day with power, 
Which naught created, man or devil, might 
Resist. Nor waited, gazing, long; but, quick 
Descending, silently and without song, 
A-B servants bent to do their master's work, 
To middle air they raised the human race. 
Above the path long travelled by the sun; 
And as a shepherd from the sheep divides 
The goats; or husbandman, with reaping bands, 
In harvest, separates the precious wheat. 
Selected from the tares ; so did they part 
Mankind, the good aft bad, to right and left. 
To meet no more ; these ne'er again to smile, 
Nor those to weep ; these never more to share 
Society of mercy with the saints, 
Nor, henceforth, those to suffer with the vile. 
Strange parting ! not for hours, nor days, nor months, 
Nor for ten thousand times ten thousand years ; 
But for a whole eternity ! — though fit. 
And pleasant to the righteous, yet to ail 
Strange, and most strangely felt ! The sire, to right 
Retiring, saw the son — sprung from his loins,- 
Beloved how dearly once ! but who forgot, 
Too soon, in sin's intoxicating cup. 
The Other's warnings and the mother's tears- 
Fall to the left among the reprobate ; 
And sons, redeemed, beheld the fiithers, whom 
They loved and honoured once, gathered among 
The wicked Brothers, sisters, kinsmen, friends ; 
Husband and wife, who ate at the same board, 
' 19 



918 TBS COUK8B OF TOfC 



Aad vndOT the nae rooC ^niitod, dwrity 

fYom'yoiith to htmrj nge, hem ilag tb« 

And change of Time togetber, parted then 

For evermore. But none, wliooe fiiesdriiip gr&w 

From Tiriae'e pore and everiiartng wotA, 

Took dilfereiit roads ; tbeee, kmt in afaricter bonds 

Of amitjy embracing', saw no more 

Death, with his stthe, stand by ; nor heard the wofd. 

The bitter word, which closed all earthlj InendflhipSy 

And <"««>M^ erery feast of lo ve F arewefl. 

To all, strange parting! to the wicked, sad 

And terrible ! New horror seitod them, while 

Thej saw the ssinfts withdrawing, and with them 

All hope of nfetj, all delay of wrath. 

Beneath a crown €f rosy lights — like that 
Which once, in Crodien, on the flocks, and herds. 
And dwellings, smiled, of Jacob, while the land 
Of Nile was dark ; or like the pillar bright 
Of sacred fire, that stood 9bowe fiie sons 
Of Israel, when they camped at midnight bj 
The foot of Horeb, or the desert side 
Of Sinai ; — ^now, the righteous took their place. 
All took their place, who erer wished to go 
To heaven, (or heaven's own sake. Not one remained 
Among the accursed, that e*er desired with all 
The heart to be redeemed, that erer sooght 
Submissively to do the wiH of God, 
Howe'er it crossed his own ; >irto escape 
Hell, for aught other than its penal fires. 
All took their place, rejoicing, and beheld, 
In centre of the crown of golden beams 
That canopied them o'er, these gracious wonfe 
Blushing with tints of love : " Fear not, my sahils." 

To other sight of horrible dismay, 
Jehovah*0 ministers^e wicked drove, 
And left them bound immovable In chains 



BOOK IX. 219 

Of Jiutice. O'er theii heads a bowleaa oloud 

Of indignation brang ; a cloud it was 

Of thick and utter darkneat, rolling, like 

An ocean, tide* of livid, pitchy flame ; ^ 

With thunders charged, and lightnings "ruinous, 

And* red with forked vengeance, such as wounds 

The soul ; and full of angry shapes of wrath, 

And eddies whirling with tumultuous -fire. 

And forms of terror raving to and fro. 

And monsters, unimagined heretofore 

By guilty men in dreams before their death. 

From horrid to more horrid changing still, 

li hideous movement through that slormy gulf: 

And evermore the Thunders, murmuring, spoke 

From out the darkness, uttering loud these words. 

Which every guilty conscience echoed back : 

** Te knew your duty, but ye did it not." 

Dread wonb ! that barred excuse, and threw the weight 

Of every man's perdition, on himself. 

Directly home. Dread words ! heard then, and heard 

For ever through the wastes of Erebus. 

'' Te knew your duty, but ye did it not !" 

These were the words which glowed upon the^ sword. 

Whose wrath burned fearfully behind the cursed, 

As they were driven away from God to Tophet. 

'* Ye knew your duty, but ye did it not !" 

These are the words to which the harps of grief 

Are strung ; and, to the chorus of the damned. 

The rocks of hell repeat them, evermore ; 

Loud echoed through the caverns of despair. 

And poured in thunder on the ear of Wo, 

Nor ruined men alone, beneath that cloudy 
Trembled. There, Satan and his legions stood, 
Satan, the first and eldest sinner, — Abound 
For judgment. He, by other name, held once 
Conspicuous rank in heaven among the sons 
Of happiness, rejoicing, day and night. 



Tioof hts fmhj of icbelfiaa 
Of llw Eteraal Fktberaiid th» 
Fraii ererlastnig bulk OB 





Bj God, was made ortirdy kolj, had 
The wffl of God biftn 
And regnlatiao of iua hfii 
To do as iid ; b«f was, ■iiawliMi , left free. 
To prore^ham worth, his giatifuda, his kyve; 
How prored besides ? fcrhoweonld 
That mi^ not else hxwe been withheld, 
1%B win to serre, wfaieh, rather than the deed, 
God doth reqmre, and Tiitae 
To stand or fidl, to do or leave 
■^^ reason's lofty priTil^e, denied 
To d below, bj instinct boond to &te, 
r, alike, reward or Maaw. 



( 



Tfaos free, the Deril chose to cfieobef 
The will of God, and was throwti ont from hestvn. 
And with him all his bad example stained : 
Yet not to utter ponidmient deseed. 
Bat left to fin the measure of his ni, 
In tempting and seducing man — too soon, 
Too easilj seduced ! And, from the day 
He first set fiiot on earthy — of rancour full, 
And pride, and hate, and malice, and rerenge, — 
He ict himself, with most felonious aim 
And helliih persererance, to root out 
AU good, and in ite place to plant aU iU ; 
To rub and raze, from an created things, 



f 



BOOK IX. 221 

The fair and holj portraiture divine, 

And on them to enstamp hie featuree gnm ; 

To draw all creatures oiF from loyalty 

To their Creator, and to make them bow 

The knee to him. Nor failed of great lacceM, 

As populoQB heU, this day, can testify. 

He held, indeed, large empire in the world, 

Contending proudly with the King of heaven. 

To him temples were built, and sacrifice 

Of costly blood upon his altars flowed ; 

And — what best pleased him, for in show he seemed 

Then likest God — whole nations, bowing, fell 

Before him, worshipping, and from his lips 

Entreated oracles, which he, by priests, — 

For many were his priests in every age, — 

Answered, though guessing but at future things. 

And erring oft, yet still believed ; so well 

His ignorance, in ambiguous phrase, he veiled. 

Nor needs it wonder, that with man once fallen, 
His tempting should succeed. Large was his mind 
And understanding ; though impaired by sin. 
Still large ; and constant practice, day and night, 
In cunning, guile, and all hypocrisy. 
From age to age, gave him experience vast 
In sin's dark tactics, such as boyish man. 
Unarmed by strength* divine, could ill withstand. 
And well he knew his weaker side ; and still, 
His lares, with baits that pleased the senses, busked ; 
To his impatient passions offering terms 
Of present joy, and bribing reason's eye 
With earthly wealth, and honours near at hand. 
Nor failed to misadvise his future hope 
And faith, by false, unkemeled promises 
Of heavens of sensual gluttony and love, 
That suited best their grosser appetites. 
Into the sinner's heart, who lived secure, 
And feared him least, he entered at his will, 
19* 



21S THB COURSE OP TIMK. 

Bat ehief^ he ehow his rsadenee in comls 

And oohcUtm, rtirring princes iq> to acts 

Of blood and tjmnny ; and moving priests 

Ttf barter tmth, and swap the souls of men 

Tor Instj benefices, and address 

Of loftj soonding. Nor the saints elect. 

Who walked with God, in yirtae's path sublime, 

Did he not sometimes yentnre to molest ; 

In dreams and moments of nngoarded thought. 

Suggesting gniltj doubts and fears, that God 

Would disappoint their hope ; and in their way 

Bestrewing pleasures, tongued so sweet, and so 

In holy garb arrayed, that many stooped, 

Believing them of heavenly sort, and fell ; 

And to their high professions, brought disgrace 

And scandal ; to themselves, thereafter, long 

And bitter nights of sore repentance, vexed 

With shame, unwonted sorrow, and remorse. 

And more they should have fidlen, and more have wept. 

Had not their guardian angeb, who, by God 

Commissioned, stood beside them in the hour 

Of danger, whether craft, or fierce attack, 

To Satan's deepest skill opposing skill 

More deep, and to his strongest arm, an arm ^ 

More strong, — ^upborne them in their hands, and filled ' 

Their souls with all discernment, quick, to pierce 

His stratagems and fairest shows oJf sin. 

Now, like a roaring lion, up and down 
The world, destroying, though unseen, he raged ; 
And now, retiring back to Tartarus, 
Far back, beneath the thick of guiltiest dark. 
Where night ne'er heard of day, in council grim. 
He sat with ministers whose thoughts were damned, ;i 

And there such plans devised, as, had not God | 

Checked and restrained, had added earth entire 
To hell, and uninhabited left heaven, 
Jehovah unadored. Nor unsevere. 



BOOK IX. 223 

Even then, hia punishment deserved. The Worm 

That never dies, coiled in his bosom, gnawed ^ 

Perpetually ; sin after sin brought pang 

Succeeding pang; and, now and then, the bolts. 

Of Zion's King, vindictive, smote his soul 

With fiery wo to blast his proud designs ', 

And gave him earnest of the wrath to come. 

And chief, when, on the cross, Messiah said, 

** 'Tis finished,'' did the edge of vengeance smite 

Him through, and all his gloomy legions touch 

With new despair. But yet, to be the first 

In mischief, to have armies at his call. 

To hold dispute with God, in days of Time, 

His pride and malice fed, and bore him up 

Above the worst of ruin. Still, to plan 

And act great deeds, though wicked, brought at least 

The recompense which nature hath attached 

To all activity, and aim pursued 

With perseverance, good, or bad ; for as. 

By nature's laws, immutable and just, 

Enjoyment stops where indolence begins ; 

And purposeless, to-morrow borrowing sloth, 

Itself, heaps on its shoulders loads of wo, 

Too heavy to be borne ; so industry — 

To meditate, to plan, resolve, perform. 

Which in itself is good — as surely brings 

Reward of good, no matter what be done : 

And such reward the Devil had, as long 

As the decrees eternal gave him space 

To work. But now, all action ceased ; his hope 

Of doing evil perished quite ; his pride. 

His courage, failed him ; and beneath that cloud. 

Which hung its central terrors o'er his head. 

With all his angels, he, for sentence, stood. 

And rolled his eyes around, that uttered guilt 

And wq, in horrible perfection joined. 

As he had been the chief and leader, long, 

Of the apostate crew that warred with God 



224 THB COURSE OP TIMB. 

And bolinefs ; so now, among the l>ad, 

Lowest, and most forlorn, and trembling most, 

With «U iniquity deformed and foul. 

With all perdition ruinous and dark. 

He stood,— example awful of the wrath 

Of God ! sad mark, to which all sin must fall ! — 

And made, on eyerj side, so black a hell, 

That spirits, used to night and misery, 

To distance drew, and looked another way ; 

And firom their golden cloud, fax off, the saints 

Saw round him darkness grow more dark-, and l|pard 

The impatient thunderbolts, with deadliest crash 

And frequentest, break o'er his head, — ^the sign 

That Satan, there, the vilest sinner, stood. 

Ah me ! what eyes were there beneath that cloud ! 
Eyes of despair, foial and certain ! eyes 
That looked, and looked, and saw, where'er they* looked. 
Interminable darkness ! utter wo ! 

'Twas pitiful to see the early flower 
Nipped by the unfeeling frost, just when it rose, 
Lovely in youth, and put its beauties on. 
*Twa8 pitiful to see the hopes of all 
The year, the yellow harvest, made a heap. 
By rains of judgment ; or by torrents swept. 
With flocks and cattle, down the raging flood ; 
Or scattered by the winnowing winds, that bore, 
Upon their angry wings, the wrath of heaven. 
Sad was the field, where, yesterday, was heard 
The roar of war ; and sad the sight of maid, 
Of mother, widow, sister, daughter, wife. 
Stooping and weeping over senseless, cold^ 
Defaced, and mangled lumps of breathless earth, 
Which had been husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, ■ 
And lovers, when that morning's sun arose. 
'Twas sad to see the wonted seat of friend 
Removed by death ; and sad to visit #cenes, 



i 



BOOK IX. 225 

When old, where, in the nniluig mom o( Iffe, 
Lived many, who both knew and ]pved us much, 
And they all gone, dead, or dispersed abroad; 
And stranger faces seen among their hills. 
*Twa8 sad to see the little orphan babe 
Weeping and sobbing on its mother's grave. 
'Twas pitiful to see an old, forlorn. 
Decrepit, withered wretch, unhoused, unclad, 
Starving to death with poverty and cold. 
*Twas pitiful to see a blooming bride. 
That promise gave of many a happy year, 
Touched by decay, turn pale, and waste, and die. 
*Twas pitiful to hear the murderous thrust 
Of ruffian's blade that sought the life entire. 
'Twas sad to hear the blood come gurgling forth 
From out the throat of the wild suicide. 
Sad was the sight of widowed, childless age 
Weeping.— I saw it once. Wrinkled with time. 
And hoary with the dust of years, an old 
And worthy man came to his humble roof, 
Tottering and slow, and on thtf threshold stood. 
No foot, no voice, was heard within. None came 
To meet him, where he oft had met a wifo, 
And sons, and daughters, glad at his return ; 
None came to meet him ; for that day had seen 
The old man lay, within the narrow house, 
The last of all hiA fiunily ; and now 
He stood in solitude, in solitude 
Wide as the world ; for all, that made to him 
Society, had fled beyond its bounds. 
Wherever strayed his aimless eye, there lay 
The wreck of some fond hope, that touched his soul 
With bitter ti^^raghts, and told him all was passed. 
His lonely cot was silent, and he looked 
As if he could not enter. On his staff, 
Bending, he leaned ; and from his weary eye, 
Distressing sight ! a single tear-drop wept. 
None followed, for the fount of tears was dry. 



296 THE COUBUE OF TIME. 

Alone and lafll, it Ml ficn wnklB domi 

To wrinkle, till it lost iteeU; drank Yry 

The withered cheek, on which again no nnile 

Should C(Mne, or drop of tendemeeB be aeen. 

This eight was very ^tiful ; bat oae 

Was ladder still, the laddest aeen in Time : 

A man, to-day, the glory of lus kind. 

In reason clear, in onderstanding large. 

In judgment sound, in fancy quick, in hope 

Abundant, and in promise, like a field 

Wen cultured, and reiresbed with dews firom God ; 

To-morroir, chained, and raving mad, and whipped 

By serrile hands ; ntting on dismal straw. 

And gnadiing with his teeth against the chain. 

The iron chain, that bound him hand and foot ; 

And trying whiles to send his glaring eye 

Beyond the wide circumference of his wo ; 

Or, humbling more, more miserable still, 

Giring an idiot laugh that served to show 

The blasted scenery of his horrid &ce ; 

Calling the straw his sceptre, and the stone, 

On which he, |Mnioned, sat, his royal throne. 

Poor, poor, poor man ! fiillen fitf below the brute ! 

His reason stroTO in vain to find her way. 

Lost in the stormy desert of his brain ; 

And, being active still, she wrought all strange. 

Fantastic, execrable, monstrous things. 

All these were sad, and thousands more, that sleep 
Forgotten beneath the funeral pall of Time ; 
And bards, as well becanie, bewailed them much. 
With doleful instruments of weeping song. 
But what were these ? What might be worse had in't, 
However small, some grains of happiness ; 
Azid man ne'er drank a cup of earthly sort. 
That might not held another drop of gall ; 
Or, in his deepest sorrow, laid his head 
Upon a pillow, set so dose with thorns, 



BOOK IX. 227 ^ • 

That might not held another prickle still. 

Accordingly, the saddest human look 

Had hope ih't ; faint, indeed, but still 'twas hope. 

But why excuse the mitery of earth ? 

Say it was dismal, cold, and dark, and deep. 

Beyond the utterance of strongest words ; 

But say that none remembered it, who saw 

The eye of beings damned for evermore, 

Rolling, and rolling, rolling still in vain, 

To find some ray, to see beyond the gulf 

Of iln unavenued, fierce, fiery^, hot, 

Interminable, dark Futurity ! 

And rolling still, and rolling still in vain ! ^ 

Thus stood the reprobate beneath the shade 
Of terror, and beneath the crown of lore, 
The good ; and there was silence in the vault 
Of heaven ; and as they stood and listened, they heard. 
Afar to left, among the utter dark. 
Hell rolling o'er his waves of burning fire, 
And thundering through his caverns, empty then, 
As if he preparation made, to act 
The final vengeance of the fiery Lamb. 
And there was heard, coming from out the Pit, 
The hollow wailing of Eternal Death, 
And^feffMriM^ of the Undying Worm. 



The wicked paler turned, and scarce the good 
Their colour kept ; but were not long dismayed. 
That moment, in the heavens, how wondrous fair * 
The angel of Mercy stood, and, on the bad 
Turning his back, over the ransomed threw 
His bow, bedropped with imagery of love, 
And promises on which their faith reclined. 
Throughout, deep, breathless silence reigned again ; 
And on thc^ircuit of the upper spheres,'^ 
A glorious seraph stood, and cried aloud, 
That every ear of man and devil heard, 



228 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

« HfR that is filtbj, let be iUthy still ; 

Him that is holy, let be holy still." 

Andy fuddenly, another squadron brighti 

Of high arch-angel glor]^, stocking, brought 

A marvellous bow,«-one base upon the Cross, 

The other on.the shoulder of the Bear, 

They placed, — ^from south to north, spanning the 

heavens, 
And on each hand dividing good and bad, — 
Who read, on either side, these burning words, 
Which ran along the arcirin living fire, 

" As ye have sown, so shall ye reap this day.'.' 



4. 









4 



THE ^ 



COURSE OF TIME- 



BOOK X. 



God of my tathen ! holy, just, and good ! 
My God ! my Father ! my nnfailing Hope ! 
Jehovah ! let the incense of my praise, 
Accepted, burn before thy mercy seat, 
And in thy presence burn, both day and night. 
Maker ! Preserver ! my Redeemer ! God ! 
Whom have I In the heavens but Thee alone ? ' 
On earth, but Thee, whom should I praise, whcrni love P 
For Thou hast brought me hitherto, upheld 
By thy omnipotence ; and from thy grace, 
Unbought, unmerited, though not unsought — 
The wells of thy salvation, hast refreshed 
My spirit, watering it, at morn and even ; 
And, by thy Spnrit, whiclj thou freely givest 
To whom thou ifilt, hast led my venturous song, 
Over the vale and mountain tract, the light 
And shade of man ; into the burning deep 
Descending now, and now circling the mount, 
Where highest sits Divinity enthroned ; 
Rolling along the tide of fluent thought, 
The tide of moral, natural, divine ; 
Gazing on past and present, and again, 
On rapid pinion borne, outstripping Time, 
In long excursion, wandering through the groves 
20 



230 THB COURSE OF TIME. 

Unfading, and the endlegs avenues, 

That shade the landscape of Eternity ; 

And talking there with holy angels met, 

And fiiture men, in glorious vision seen ! 

Nor unrewarded have I watched at night, 

And heard the drowsy sound of neighbouring sleep. 

New thought, new imagery, new scenes of bliss 

And glory, unrehearsed by mortal tongue. 

Which, unrevealed, I, trembling, turned and left, 

Bursting at once upon my ravished eye,— 

With joy unspeakable have filled my soul, 

And made my cup run over with delight : pi,^ 

Though in my facdl^he blasts of adverse winds,^ 

While boldly circumnavigating man. 

Winds seeming adversp, though perhaps nA so. 

Have beat severely ) disregarded beat, 

Wl^en I, behind me, heard the voice of God, 

And his propitious Spirit say. Fear not ! 

God of my fathers ! ever present God ! 
This offering, more', inspire, sustain, accept ; 
Highest, if numbers answer to the theme ; 
Best answering, if thy Spirit dictate most. 
Jehovah ! breathe upon my soul ; my heart 
Enlarge ; my faith increase ; increase my hope ; 
My thoughts exalt \ my fancy sanctify, 
And all my passions, that I near thy throne 
May venture, unreproved j and sing the day. 
Which none unholy ought to name, the Day 
Of Judgment ! greatest day, passed or to come ! 
Day ! which,— deny me what thou wilt, deny 
Me home, or friend, or honourable name,— 
Thy mercy grant, I, thoroughly prepared, 
With comely garment of redeeming love. 
May meet, and have my Judge for Advocate. 

Come, Gracious Influence, Breath of the Lord ! 
And touch me trembling, as thou touched the man, 



BOOK X. . 231 

Greatly beloved, when he in vision saw, 

By Ulai's stream, the Ancient sit ; and talked 

With Gabriel, to his prayer swiftly sent. 

At evening sacrifice. Hold my right hand. 

Almighty * hear me, for I ask through Him, 

Whom thon hast heard, whom thou wilt always hear, 

Thy Son, our interceding. Great High Priest ! 

Reveal the future, let the years to come 

Pass by, and open my ear to hear the harp 

The prophet harp, whose wisdom I repeat, 

Interpreting the voice of distant song ; — 

Which thus again resumes the lofty verse, 

Loftiest, if I interpret faithfully 

The holy numbers which my spirit hears. 

Thus came the day, the Harp again began, 
The day that many thought should never come, 
That all the wicked wished should never come, 
That all the righteous had expected long ; 
Day greatly feared, and yet too little feared. 
By him who feared it most ; day laughed at much 
By the profane, the trembling day of all 
Who laughed; day when all shadows passed, all dreams; 
When substance, when reality commenced ; 
Last day of lying, final day of all 
Deceit, all knavery, all quackish phrase ; 
Ender of all disputing, of all mirth 
Ungodly, of all loud and boasting speech ; 
Judge of all judgments, Judge of every judge, 
Adjuster of all causes, rights and wrongs ; 
Day oft appealed to, and appealed to oft 
By those who saw its dawn with saddest heart ; 
Day most magnificent in Fancy's range, 
Whence she retiirned, confounded, trembling, pale, 
With overmuch of glory faint and blind ; 
Day most important held, prepared for most, 
By every rational, wise, and holy man ; 
Day of eternal gain, for worldly loss ; 



282 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

Day of eternal loss, for worldly fgean ', 

Great day of terror, vengeance, wo, despair ; 

Revealer of all secrets, thoughts, desires ; 

Rein-trying, heart-investigating day, 

That stood between Eternity and Time, 

Reviewed all past, determined all to come, 

And bound all destinies for evermore ; 

Believing day of unbelief; great day. 

That set in proper light the affairs of earth, 

And justified the Government Divine ; 

Great day ! — ^what can we more? what should we more?- 

Great triumph day of God's incarnate Son ! 

Great day of glory to the> Almighty God ! 

Day ! whence the everlasting years begin 

Their date, new era in eternity, 

And«ft referred to in the song of heaven T 

Thus stood the apostate, thus the ransomed stood, 
Those held by justice fast, and these by love, 
Reading the fiery scutcheonry, that blazed 
On high, upon the great celestial bow : 
'* As ye Jiave sown, so shall ye reap this day." 
All read, all understood, and all believed. 
Convinced of judgment, righteousness, and sin. 

Meantime the universe throughout was still. 
The cape, above and round about, was calm ; 
And motionless, beneath them, lay the Earth, 
Silent and sad, as one that sentence ^aits. 
For flagrant crime ; — ^when suddenly was heard. 
Behind the azure vaulting of the sky, 
Above, and &r remote from reach of sight. 
The sound of trumpets, and the sound of crowds, 
And prancing steeds, and rapid chariot wheels. 
That from four quarters rolled, and seemed in haste, 
Assembling at some place of rendezvous ; 
AB^s*4bey seewwjjtojFoU, with loriiica^q^, 
As if none ij^eaat to JiftlidliiDd thc^;^!^ 






I 



BOOK X. 283 

Nor seemed alone : that day, the girfden tmmp, 
Whose voice, from centre to circumference 
Of all created things, is heard distinct, 
God had bid Michael sound, to summon all 
The hosts of bliss to presence of their King ; 
And, all the morning, millions infinite. 
That millions governed each. Dominions, Powers, 
Thrones, Principalities, with all their hosts, 
Had been arriving, near the capital, 
And rojal city, New Jerusalem, 

From heaven's remotest bounds. Nor yet &om heaven 
Alone came they, that day. The worlds around, 
Or neighbouring nearest on the verge of night. 
Emptied, sent forth their whole inhabitants. 
All tribes of being came, of every nai||p. 
From every coast, filling Jehovah's courts. 
From mom till mid-day, in the squadrons ftoured 
Immense, along the bright celestial roads. 
Swiftly they rode, for love unspeakable. 
To Ood, and to Messiah, Prince of Peace, 
i)rew them, and made obedience haste to be 
Approved. And now, before the Eternal Throne, — 
Brighter, that day, than when the Son prepared 
To overthrow the serapfiim rebelled, — 
And circling round the mount of Deity, 
Upon the sea of glass, all round about, 
And down the borders of the stream of life, 
And over all the plains of Paradise, 
For many a league of heavenly measurement,!— 
Assembled, stood the immortal multitudes, 
Millions, above all number infinite. 
The nations of the blessed. Distinguished each, 
By chief of goodly stature blazing fisur ; 
By various garb, and flag of various hue 
Streaming through heaven fi'om standard lifted high — 
The arms and imagery of thousand worlds. 
Distinguished each, but all arrayed complete, 
In armour bright, of helmet, shield, and sword ; 
30* 



234 THE COURSE OP TIME. 

And mounted all in diariots of fire. 
A military throng, blent, not confiiaed ', 
Ab soldiers ^toMHiK^eM^llpMHPMiMiF, 
splendiv^ refulgent gold, 



And ornament, on purpose, long devised 

For this expected day. Distinguished each, 

But all accoutred as became their Lord, 

And high occasion , all in holiness, 

The livery of the soldiery of God, , 

Vested ; and shining all with perfect bliss, 

The wages that his faithful servants win. 

Thus stood they numberless around the mount 
Of presence ; and, adoring, waited, hushed 
In deepest silence^or the voice of God. 
That moment, all the Sacred Hill on high 
Burned, terriMe with glory, and, behind 
The uncreated lustre, hid the Lamb, 
Invisible ', when, from the radiant cloud. 
This voice, addressing all. the hosts of heaven. 
Proceeded, not in words as w% converse. 
Each n^th his fellow, but in language' such 
As Grod doth use, imparting, without phrase 
Successive, what, in upeech of d^eatures, seems 
Long narrative, though long, yet losing much 
In feeble symbols of the thought Divine. 

My servants long approved, my faithfiil eons, 
Angels of glory. Thrones, Dominions, Powers, 
Well pleased, this morning, I have seen the speed 
Of your obedience, gathering round my throne, 
In order due, and well-becoming garb ; 
Illustrious, as I see, beyond your wont. 
As was my wish, to glorify this day : 
And now, what your assembling means, attend. 

This day concludes the destiny of man. 
The hour, appointed fi'om eternity. 



BO«K X. 235 

To judge the earth, in righteousneBs, is come -, 
To end the war of Sin, that long has fought, 
Permitted, against the sword of Holiness ; 
To giye to men and devils, as their works, 
Recorded in my all-remembering book, 
I find ; good to the good, and great reward 
Of everlasting honour, joy, and peace, 
Before my presence here for evermore ; 
And to the evilj as their sins provoke, 
Eternal recompense of shame and wo. 
Cast out beyond the bounds of light and love. 

Long have I stood, as ye, my sons, well know, 
Between the cherubim, and stretched my arms 
Of mercy out, inviting all to come • 
To me, and live ; my bowe^ long have moved 
With great compassion , and my justice passed 
Transgression by, and not imputed sin. 
Long here, upon my everlasting throne, 
I have beheld my love and mercy secerned , 
Have seen my laws despised, my name blasphemed. 
My providence accused, my gracious plans 
Opposed ; and long, too long, have I beheld 
The wieked triumph, and my saints reproached 
Maliciously, while on my altars lie, 
Unanswered still, their prayers and their tears. 
That seek my coming, wearied with delay ; 
And long. Disorder in my moral reign 
Has walked rebelliously, disturbed the peace 
Of my eternal government, and wrought 
Confusion, spreading far a^d wide, among 
My works inferior, which groan to be 
Released. Nor long shall groan. The hour of grace, 
Tlie final hour of grace, is fully passed ; 
The time accepted for repentance, faith. 
And pardon, is irrevocably passed ; 
And Justice, unaccompanied, as wont. 
With Mercy, now goes forth, to give to all 



236 THE COURSE *OF TIME. 

According to their deeds. Justice alone, — 
For why should Mercy any more be joined ? 
What hath not mercy, mixed with judgment done, 
That mercy, mixed with judgment and reproof, 
Could do ? Did I not revelation make. 
Plainly and clearly, of my will entire ? 
Before them set my holy law, and gave 
Them knowledge, wisdom, prowess to obey, 
And win, by self-wrought works, eternal life P 
Rebelled, did I not send them terms of peace. 
Which, not my justice, but my mercy asked P — 
Terms, costly to my well-beloved Son ; 
To them, gratuitous, exacting faith 
Alone for pardon, works evincing fiiith P 
Have L not early riien, and sent my seers, 
Prophets, apostles, teachers, ministers. 
With signs and wonders, working in my name ? 
Have I not still, from age to age, raised up 
As I saw needful, great, religious men. 
Gifted by me with large capacity. 
And by my arm omnip6tent upheld, 
To pour the numbers of my mercy forth, 
Aind roll my judgments on the ear of man ? 
And lastly, when the promised hour was come,— 

What more could most abundant mercy do P 

Did I not send Inmianuel forth, my Bon, 
Only begotten, to purchase, by his blood, 
As many as believed upon his name P 
Did he not die to give repentance, such 
As I accept, and pardon of all sins P 
Has he not taught, beseeched, and shed abroad 
The Spirit unconfinffd, and given at times 
Example fierce of wrath and judgment, poured 
yindictively on nations guilty long P 
What means of reformation, that my Son 
Has left behind, untried P what plainer words. 
What arguments more strong, as yet remain P 
Did he not tell them, with his lips of truth. 






BOOK X. 237 

The ri^hteom ehould be saved) the wicked damned ? 

And has he not, awake both day and night, 

Hece interceded with prevailing Toice, 

At my right band, pleading his precious blood 

Which magnified my holy law, and bought, 

For all who wished, perpetual righteousness ? 

And hav% not you, my faithful servants, all 

Been frequent forth, obedient to my will, 

With messages of mercy and of love, 

Administering my gifts, to sinful man ? 

And have not all my mercy, all my love. 

Been sealed and stamped with signature of heaven ? 

By proof of wonders, miracles, and signs 

Attested, and attested more by truth 

Divine, inherent in the tidings sent ? 

This day declares the consequence of all. 

Some have believed, are sanctified, and saved, 

Prepared for dwelling in this holy place. 

In these their mansions, built before my face ; 

And now, beneath a crown of golden light, 

Beyond our wall, at place of judgment, they, 

Expecting, wait the promised, due reward. 

The others stand with Satan bound in chains, 

The others, who refused to be redeemed : 

They citand, unsanctified, unpardoned, sad, 

Waiting the sentence that shall fix their wo. 

The others, who refiised to be redeemed ; 

For all had grace sufficient to believe, 

All who my gospel heard ; and none, who heard 

It not, shall by its law, this day, be tried. 

Necessity of sinning, my decrees 

Imposed on none ; but rather, all inclined 

To holiness ; and grace was bountiful. 

Abundant, overflowing with my word ; 

My word of life and peace, which to all men, 

Who shall or stand or iall, by law revealed. 

Was offered freely, as 'twas freely sent. 

Without all money, and without all price. 



238 THE COUliSE OF TIME. 

Thus they have all, by willing act, despised 
Me, and my Son, and sanctifying Spirit* 
But now, no longer shall they mock or seoin. 
The day of grace and mercy is complete. 
And Godhead from their misery absolved. 

So saying, He, the Father infinite. 
Turning, addressed Messiah, where he sat, 
Exalted gloriously, at his right Jiand. 
This day belongs to justice and to thee. 
Eternal Son, thy right for service done, 
Abundantly fulfilling all my will ; 
By promise thine, from all eternity. 
Made in the ancient Covenant of Grace ; 
And thine, as most befitting, since in thee 
Divine and human meet, impartial Judge, 
Consulting thus the interest of both. 
Go then, my Son, divine similitude. 
Image express of Deity unseen, 
The book of my remembrance take ; and take 
The golden crowns of life, due to the saints ; 
And take the seven last thunders ruinous ; 
Thy armour take ; gird on thy sword, thy sword 
Of justice ultimate, reserved, till now, ^ 

Unsheathed, in the eternal armoury ; 
And mount the living chariot of God. ^ 
Thou goest not now, as once, to Calvary, 
To be insulted, buffeted, and slain; 
Thou goest not now, with battle and the voice 
Of war, as once against the rebel hosts. 
Thou goest a Judge, and findst the guilty bound ; 
Thou goest to prove, condemn, acquit, reward. 
Not unaccompanied j all these, my saints, 
Go with thee, glorious retinue, to sing 
Thy triumph, and participate thy joy ; 
And I, the Omnipresent, with thee go ; 
And with thee all the glory of my throne. 



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BOOK X. 239 

Thus said the Father ; and the Son belovedi 
Omnipotent, Omniscient, Fellow God, 
Arose, resplendant with Divinity , 
And He the book of God's recuembrance took ; 
And took the seven last thunders ruinous ; 
And took the crowns of life, due to the saints ; 
His armour took ; girt on his sword, his sword 
Of justice ultimate, reserved, till now. 
Unsheathed, in the eternal armoury ', 
And up the hving chariot of God 
Ascended, signifying all complete. 

And now the Trump, of wondrous melody. 
By man or angel never heard before, 
Sounded with thunder, and the march began, 
Not swift, as cavalcade, on battle bent, 
But, as became procession of a judge. 
Solemn, magnificent, majestic, slow ; 
Moving sublime with ^ory infinite. 
And numbers infinite, and awful song, 
They passed the gate of heaven, which, many a league , 
Opened either way, to let the glory forth 
Of this great march. And now, the sons of men 
Beheld their coming, which, before, they heard ; 
Beheld the glorious countenance of God ! 
All light was swallowed up, all objects seen 
Faded ; and the Incarnate, visible 
Alone, held every eye upon him fixed ; 
The wicked saw his majesty severe ; 
And those who pierced Him saw his face with clouds 
Of glory circled round, essential bright ! 
And to the rocks and mountains called in vain. 
To hide them from the fierceness of his wrath : 
Almighty power their flight restrained, and held 
Them bound immovable before the bar. 

The righteous, undismayed and bold, — ^best proof, 
This day, of fortitude sincere, — sustained 



240 THE COURSE OF TIME. 

By inward faith, with acclamations loud, 
Received the coming of the Son of Man ; 
And, drawn by love, inclined to his appffftach, 
Moving to meet the brightness of his face. 

Meantime, 'tween good and bad, the Jadge his wheels 
Stayed, and, ascending, sat upon the great 
White Throne, that morning founded there by power 
Omnipotent, and built on righteousness 
And truth. Behind, before, on every side. 
In native and reflected blaze of bright, , 
Celestial equipage, the myriads stood. 
That with his marching came ; rank above rank. 
Rank above rank, with shield and flaming sword. 

'Twaa silence all ! and quick, on right and left, 
A mighty angel spread the book of God's 
Remembrance ; and, with conscience now sincere, 
All men compared the record, written there 
By finger of Omniscience ; and received 
Their sentence, in themselves, of joy or wo ; 
Condemned or justified, while yet the Judge 
Waited, as if to let them prove themselves. 
The righteous, in the book of life displayed. 
Rejoicing, read their names ; rejoicing, read 
Their faith for righteousness received, and deeds 
Of holiness, as proof of faith complete. 
The wicked, in the book of endless death. 
Spread out to left, bewailing, read their names ; 
And read beneath them. Unbelief, and fruit 
Of unbelief, vile, unrepented deeds, 
Now unrepentable for evermore ; 
And gave approval of the wo affixed. 

This done, the Omnipotent, Omniscient Judge, 
Rose infinite, the sentence to pronounce^ 
The sentence of eternal wo or bliss ! 
All glory heretofore seen or conceived, 



f 



1 
J 



BOOK z. 241 

All majesty, annihilated, dropped, 

That moment, from remembrance, and waa lost ; 

And silence, deeftost hitherto eeteemed, 

Seemed noisy to the stillness of this hour. 

Comparisons I seek not, nor should find, 

If sought. That silence, which all being held, 

When God's Almighty Son, from off the walls 

Of heaven the rebel angels threw, accursed. 

So still, that all creation heard their fall 

Distinctly, in the lake of burning fire, — 

Was now forgotten, and every silence else. 

All being rational, created then. 

Around the judgment seat, intensely listened. 

No creature breathed. Man, angel, devil, stood 

And listened ; the spheres stood still, and every star 

Stood still, and listened ; and every particle, 

Remotest in the womb of matter, stood. 

Bending to hear, devotional and still. 

And thus upon the wicked, first, the Judge 

Pronounced the' senfence, written before of old: 

" Depart from me, ye cursed, into the fire, 

Prepared eternal in the Gulf of Hell, 

Where ye shall weep and wail for evermore. 

Reaping the harvest which your sins have sown." 

So saying, God grew dark with utter wrath ; 
And, drawhig now the sword, undrawn before, 
Which through the range of infinite, all around, 
A gleam of fiery indignation threw, 
He lifted up his hand omnipotent, 
And down among the damned the burning edge 
Plunged ; and from forth his arrowy quiver sent, 
Emptied, the seven last thunders ruinous, 
Which, entering, withered all their souls with fire. 
Then first was vengeance, first was ruin seen ! 
Red, unrestrained, vindictive, final, fierce ! 
They, howling, fled to west among the dark ; 
Bat fled not these the terrors of the Lord. 
21 



■* 



242 THE COUE8B OF TIME. 

Porsaed, and driren beyond the Golf, which ftowns 

Impassable, between the good and bad, * 

And downward fiir remote to left, oppnssed 

And scorched with the ayenging fires, begun ~ 

Burning withm them, — ^they upon the yerge • 

Of Erebus, a moment, pausiiig stood. 

And saw, below, the unfitthomable lake, 

Tossing with tides of dark, tempestuous wrath ; 

And would have looked behind ; but greater wrath, 

Behind, forbade, which now no respite gave 

To final misery. God, in the grasp 

Of his Almighty strength, took them upraised, 

And threw them down, into the yawning pit 

Of bottomless perdition, ruined, damned, 

Fast bound in chaina of darkness evermore ; 

And Second Death, and the Undying Worm, 

Opening their horrid jaws, with hideous yell, 

Falling, received their everlasting prey. 

A groan returned, as down they sunk, and sunk, 

And ever sunk, among the utter diftk ! 

A groan returned ! the righteous heard the groan, 

The groan of all the reprobate, when first 

They felt damnation sure ! and heard Hell close ! 

And heard Jehovah, and his love retire ! jk 

A 'groan returned ! the righteoi)^ heard the groan, 

As if all misery, all sorrow, grief. 

All pain, all anguish, all despair, which all 

Have suffered, or shall feel, firom first to last 

Eternity, had gathered to one pang, 

And issued in one groan of boundless wo ! 

And now the wall of hell, the outer wall. 
First gateless then, closed round them ; that which thou 
Hast seen, of fiery adamanl, emblazed 
With hideous imagery, above all hope, 
Above all flight of fimcy, burning high , 
And guarded evermore, by Justice, turned 
To Wrath, that hears, unmoved, the endless groan 



BOOK z. 243 

Of thoM wilting withia ; and sees, unmoved, 
The endleM tear of yain repentance fall. 

Nor iftk if theie ahall ever be redeemed. 
They never ^lall ! Not Ood, but their own sin, 
Condemns them. What coqjd be done, as thou hast 

heard, 
Has been already done ; all has been tried, 
That wisdom infinite, and boundless gvace, 
Working together, could devise ; and all 
Has fidled. Why now succeed? ThouglfXjod should 

stoop, 
Inviting still, and send his Only Son 
To offer grace in heU, the pride, that first 
Refused, would still refuse ; the unbelief, 
Still unbelieving, w8iil# deride and mock^ 
Nay more, refuse, deride, and mock ; for sin, 
Increasing still, and growing, day and night, 
Into the essence of the soul, become 
All sin, makes what in time seemed probable, — 
Seemed probable, since God invited then^-v^ 
For ever now impossible. Thus they» 
According to the eternal laws* which bind 
All creatures, bind the Uncreated One, 
Though we name not ^le sentence of the Judge,-^ 
Biost daily grow in sin and ponishment, 
Made by themselves their necessary lot, 
Unchangeable to all etemi^. 

What lot ! what choice ! I sing not, cannot sing. 
Here, highest seraphs tremble on the lyre. 
And make a sudden pause ! — but thou hast seen. 
And here, the bard, a moment, held his hand. 
As one who saw more of that horrid wo 
Than words could utter ; and again resumed. 

Nor yet had vengeance done. The guilty Earth, 
Inanimate, debased, and stained by sin. 



244 THE COURSE OF TlBfE. 

Seat of rebellion, of QorruptioD, Ivngf 

And tainted with mortality throughout, — 

God sentenced next ; and aent the filial fires 

Of ruin forth, to burn and to destroy. 

The saints its burning saw, and thou mayst see. 

Look yonder, round the lofty golden walls 

And galleries of New Jerusalem, 

Among the imagery of wonders passed ; 

Look near the southern gate ; look, and behold — 

On spacious canvass, touched with liying hues-^ 

The ConflagMiOn of the ancient earth, 

The handiwork of high archangel, drawn' 

From memory of what he saw, that day. 

See ! how the mountains, how the valleys burn ; 

The Andes bum, the Alps, the Apennines, 

Taurus and Atl|L9; all the idandAufb ; 

The Ocean burns, and rolls his waves of flame. 

See how the lightnings, barbed, red with wrath. 

Sent from thet quiver of Omnipotence, 

Csoss and recross the fiery gloom, and bum 

Into the centre ! — ^burn without, within, 

And help the native fires, which God awc^e. 

And kindled 'mih the fury of his wrath. 

As inly troubled, now she seems to shake ; ^ 

The flames, dividing, now a moment, fall ; ^ 

And now, in one conglomerated mass, 

Rising, they glow on high, prodigious blaze ! 

Then fall and sink again, as if, within, 

The fiiel, burned to ashes, was consumed. 

So burned the Earth upon that dreadful day. 

Yet not to full annihilation burned. 

The essentiail particles of dust remained. 

Purged by the final, sanctifying fires. 

From all corruption ; firom all stain of sin, 

Done there by man or devil, purified. 

The essential particles remained, of which 

God built the world again, renewed, improved, 

With fertile vale, and wood of fertile bough ; 



BOOK X. - . 245 

And streams of milk and honey, flowing wag} 
And mountains pinctured with perpetual green ; 
In clime and season fruitful, as at first, 
When Adam Woke, unfaU|pn, in Paradise. 
And God, from out the fount of nitive light, 
A handful tfeok of beams, and clad the sun 
Again in 'glory ; and sent forth the moon 
To borrow thence her wonted rays, and lead 
Her stars, the.rirgin daughters of the sky. 
And God revived the winds, revived the tides ; 
And touching her from his Almighty han4t 
With force centrifugal, she onward ran, 
Coursing her wonted path, to eioji no more. 
Delightful scene of new inhabitants ! 
As thou, this mom, in passing hither, sawst. 

Thus done, the glorious Judge, tumiiif to right, 
With countenance* of love unspeakable. 
Beheld the righteous, and approved them thus : 
" Ye blessed of my Father, come, ye just, . 
Enter the joy eternal of your Xiord ; 
Receive your crowns, ascend, and |dt with me. 
At God's right hand, in glory evermore !" 

Thus said the Omnipotent, Incarnate God ; 
And waited noi the homage of the crowns, 
Already thrown before him ; nor the loud 
Amen of universal, holy praise ; 
But turned the living chariot of fire, 
And swifter now,— as joyful to declare 
This day's proceedings in his Father's court, 
And to present the number of his sons 
Before the Throne, — ascended up to heaven. 
And all his saints, and all his angel bands, 
As, glorious, they on high ascended, sung ^ 
Glory to God and to the Lamb ! — ^they sung 
Messiah, fairer than the sons of men, 
And altogether lovely. Grace is poured